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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29000073">Asset Management</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinkhairandroses/pseuds/Pinkhairandroses'>Pinkhairandroses</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Southern Vampire Mysteries - Charlaine Harris, True Blood (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture, Past Rape/Non-con, Threats of Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:08:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>78,501</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29000073</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinkhairandroses/pseuds/Pinkhairandroses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sookie is tapped by the NSA to be their newest asset, but will she be a telepathic super spy, or an uncontrollable agent hellbent on self-destruction? And will her handler be able to handle her? AU Pre-Rev</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eric Northman/Sookie Stackhouse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chrysalis</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>I was 3 years old when I first realized that my mother was terrified of me. When I was 5 and started school, I discovered that my kindergarten teacher was, too. Between the two women, I think I saw every counsellor, psychotherapist, psychologist, and psychiatrist in three parishes. Most of them convinced themselves that I was ‘just good at reading people’ and ‘lying for attention’, but obviously ‘troubled’. All of them thought I was creepy as hell. And the ones with prescription pads were quick with their pens - Ritalin and Adderall for ADHD, Lithium and Haloperidol for psychosis, Amitriptyline for depression and anxiety, and dual Valium prescriptions (for Mama and me) for my mother’s peace of mind. No matter how much they slowed my brain down or sped it up, it didn’t stop my problem, and just made it harder to control.</p><p>Right after I turned 8 years old, I was referred to a new doctor. She was different from the others, who all talked down to me like I was an idiot or a baby. Dr. Beaumont was terrifying - stern, severe, and ice cold - almost literally, I discovered, when she glared at me until I shook her hand. Which was also when I realized that her mind was completely silent to me. You see, I’m a telepath, and have been as long as I can remember. At 8 years old, I couldn’t control my ability at all, and touch turned up the volume so loud that it made me wince and my head ache. But, with her? Nothing. Complete silence.</p><p>There was something else about her that set her apart from the rest. Dr. Isabel Beaumont believed me. She really believed that I could read people’s minds. She tested me, asking me to read my Mama’s and Daddy’s minds in the waiting room, the receptionist’s, the security guard’s. She had me try to read hers, and seemed very pleased when I wasn’t able. She asked so many questions about my life and family and school. She had me read a baby book, then one for older kids, part of a novel she had tucked into her desk, and then excerpts from random medical journals on her shelves. She administered a Rorschach test, a Thematic Apperception Test, the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory, and the Wechsler Intelligence Scale For Children.</p><p>When the doctor had me wait in the waiting room while she talked to my parents in her office, I pretended to read one of the Highlights magazine on the table beside my seat. I honed in on my mother’s brain and listened incredulously as the doctor told them that I was obviously an incredibly disturbed child who must be institutionalized immediately. Daddy tried to object, but my mother was secretly thrilled. Finally, someone really believed her. Finally, I wouldn’t be around anymore to frighten her or embarrass her, at least for a while.</p><p>The doctor held my arm in an iron grip as I sobbed for my Daddy not to leave me behind. Neither one would look me in the eye as they hustled out the door. Mama was eager, but Daddy was just sad and sorry and ashamed, and I’m sure I saw tears in his eyes before he walked out into the driving rain. I was inconsolable, thrashing and sobbing for my father. Dr. Beaumont reached into her pocket, pulled out a syringe, and jabbed it into my upper arm above her fist. Within seconds, I was out. And when I woke up, I was in the room that has been mine ever since.</p><p>That was the last time I saw my family. On their way to my grandmother’s house to pick up my big brother, Jason, their car was washed off a bridge in a flash flood. Dr. Beaumont showed me the newspaper article two days later. Apparently, the shock was too much for Gran, and she had a heart attack. I was told that Jason went to live with my uncle, Bartlett. I really hoped, for Jason’s sake, that Uncle Bartlett only liked little girls.</p><p>***</p><p>My new life was strange, but I guess I adjusted quickly enough. I had a tutor for school work, and without 30 other 8 year old brains drowning out my own thoughts, it was actually easy. Within days, I was caught up, and within months I was doing junior high and then high school courses. I also had training in endurance, martial arts, marksmanship, and general weapons handling. I became fluent in German, Russian, Mandarin, and Arabic. I was taught to play chess and could soon beat everyone on my “team”. I was educated on strategy, geography, world politics, history, computer science, and psychology. I learned how to withstand torture (both through my formal teachings, and through ‘discipline’). And my telepathy was constantly tested. I learned how to control my gift, to sift through thoughts and memories, to hone in on one mind in a thousand, or read 50 at once. And, most importantly, how to shore up my shields for my own peace of mind.</p><p>Touch was still a problem, though. I couldn’t shield my thoughts while maintaining any physical contact at all, except from Dr. Beaumont. Her mind was still a complete void to me, although I could sense that void as soon as it entered the building where I had spent the past 9 years. And her brain was the only one I’d encountered that was completely silent to me. I used to struggle with the red and snarly brains that some of the security staff and weapons trainers had, but I had those down by the time I turned 12 or so.</p><p>I didn’t have friends. I didn’t play. I knew no other children. I studied. I worked. I trained. I read. I slept. And the next day, I did it again. I pretended that I was too busy to be lonely. I made up for it with anger, and I poured it into everything I did. I made it a point to listen to my instructors’ thoughts as they wrote their reports about me. There were almost as many ‘very drivens’ and ‘exceptionally gifteds’ and ‘like a machines’ as there were ‘extremely difficults’, ‘antisocials’, and ‘a danger to herself and others’. They somehow forgot that I could just listen in on them whenever I pleased, as long as they were in the building. That was also how I discovered that I was being trained as a spy for the NSA in Fort Meade, Maryland.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Project Sartori</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>When I woke up in my room on July first, Dr Beaumont was standing at my window looking out at the Baltimore-Washington Parkway, her hands clasped behind her back. She turned around moments after I opened my eyes, as if she knew the instant I was awake. Man, she creeped me out. Funny, that's how people usually felt about me.</p><p>"Good morning, Sookie. It's your 18th birthday today."</p><p>"Yes, Ma'am."</p><p>"You have been training with us for nearly 10 years now. You have excelled in everything you have attempted. The time has come for you to put your training to use."</p><p>"Ma'am?"</p><p>"We have matched you with your new handler, Special Agent Alcide Herveaux. You'll meet him this afternoon. We'll go over your cover, you two can get to know each other, and we'll discuss protocols and contingencies. Your first assignment should be no problem for you. Tomorrow night, you and Alcide will have dinner at Charlie Palmer Steak in DC. We have reason to believe that a congressman will be meeting there with a Russian operative. We want to know why. All you need to do is enjoy your dinner, listen in on both parties' thoughts, and then leave after they do. There will be no contact, and your identities will not be compromised. You will then come back here and be debriefed. Any questions?"</p><p>I had a lot of questions. Was I a prisoner? An employee? Were we really not going to discuss the fact that I am now a spy for the government? Did she just assume I knew? Were they really going to let me just leave the compound after nearly 10 years, just like that? Would I be able to assimilate into society again? Would I be given the chance, really? How in the hell was I going to decide what to eat when I was actually given a choice? Would Herveaux be an asshole? What in the hell are you, Dr Beaumont, and why can't I read your mind? Does anyone miss me?</p><p>"No, ma'am."</p><p>She nodded and left the room. Thank fuck.</p><p>I got out of bed and did my morning routine - mentally sweep the building for any new gossip or intel (I could blackmail the shit out of half of the NSA if every move I made wasn't completely monitored and controlled), breakfast (as always, gluey oatmeal, rubbery eggs, protein shake. Gag), katas, burpees, lunges, squats, sit ups, push ups, and fingertip pull ups on the door frame, a quick shower, and then research.</p><p>Research is one I came up with on my own. My little secret. I don't get much in the way of personal time, but when I do, I either read fiction (this is encouraged for "enrichment purposes". In other words, it's to try to teach me what normal people who aren't being turned into super spies in secret government facilities do with their time. Presumably so I won't someday look like an idiot in public. Oh boy) or I <em>pretend</em> to read fiction, and read people instead. Research.</p><p>I laid on my bed and grabbed a book off the nightstand. I probed the brains nearby to see who was around. Larry the janitor, and Noam, my Krav Maga instructor, were on the same floor. For fun, I decided to poke around in Larry's mind.</p><p>Score! It seems that Larry used to partake in a little forgery in his spare time. I filed through his personal knowledge base and memories and learned what I could.</p><p>It's true that practice makes perfect, but theoretical knowledge is better than nothing. And I could now, theoretically, forge my own government documents. Just like I could theoretically hotwire a car, fly a plane, drive a stick, build and disarm several types of bombs, hack into any network, remove an appendix, or give one hell of a blow job. And more. So much more.</p><p>Noam didn't show up for my lesson at 8 AM. I checked his brain and discovered that ALL of my lessons were cancelled, indefinitely. Apparently, I was a spy school graduate.</p><p>I spent the whole morning doing research. I almost never had the luxury of having this much free time with this many people nearby; my time was usually only my own late at night or early in the morning and on Sundays, when the building was a ghost town. Sundays were the worst.</p><p>After lunch (as always, steamed chicken, steamed broccoli, protein shake. Gag), I was way too wired to lie down and read, so I used the intercom to call down to Stan at the security desk to escort me to the gym. I didn't have a spotter, so I stuck to rope skipping and the heavy bag. Beating the shit out of some polyvinyl-covered sand really helped take the edge off. I thought about using the speed bag, but I had gone a little overboard and my arms kinda felt like rubber. And then I told myself to toughen the fuck up, and used the speed bag for 45 minutes instead of 30.</p><p>I called down to Stan and he let me out and escorted me back to my room, where I hit the shower.</p><p>I never shower in the gym. Ever. Never again.</p><p>Supper showed up (as always, roast chicken, roast broccoli, protein shake. Gag), so I ate that, and imagined tomorrow maybe ordering steak and shrimp and a Caesar salad and a baked potato with sour cream and chives and bacon bits, and fresh bread and butter. And maybe even a piece of cake for dessert, in honour of my birthday. Gran used to always make me a hummingbird cake. I thought it was extra special because she lived on Hummingbird Road.</p><p>Ouch. Cut it out, Sookie. Enough of that.</p><p>Shortly after dark, Dr Beaumont came to get me. We took the elevator down to the third floor, where the conference rooms were. There was a very large and very handsome man leaning against the wall outside the elevator doors. Dark hair, green eyes, big muscles. Yum. I read his mind.</p><p>This was my new handler. Alcide Herveaux. Twenty-six. Werewolf! Interesting. Weapons specialist. Has a girlfriend. BS in Sports Management from LSU. From Shreveport, Louisiana! Well, that was a surprise. From my neck of the woods.</p><p>I thought about freaking him out by asking him about the pet turtle he had when he was seven, but I decided to be nice. "I'm Sookie. Nice to meet you."</p><p>"Alcide Herveaux"</p><p>He shook my hand and I managed not to wince. Really not a fan of touching. Too bad. Those pecs really were something else.</p><p>We filed into a conference room, and the three of us sat around the table. Dr Beaumont placed a manilla envelope in front of me.</p><p>"Sookie, you are an asset for the National Security Agency. You are part of Project Sartori, which will use your telepathy to gain intelligence and counterintelligence. Special Agent Herveaux will be your handler. He will accompany you, protect you, and instruct you when necessary.</p><p>"That envelope contains your new identification. To protect your identity, you have been given a cover. You are now Susannah King. You are from Arlington, Virginia. Alcide is your fiance. You are 25 years old and a freelance journalist." No big. I can look anywhere from 14 to 95 with the right make-up, and let's just say I'm not your average teenager. "You have bylines in 19 newspapers and magazines, including Vanity Fair, Playboy, and The New Yorker, starting 4 years ago." Damn. That took some planning.</p><p>We went over protocol and some particulars for the mission, including pictures and information on the marks. It seemed very straightforward - have a nice meal, do some eavesdropping, and leave. Piece of cake. I would be outfitted (clothes, weapons, restraints, just in case) before I left. I was to not leave Alcide's side, follow all of his orders, and stay on script.</p><p>Alcide thought that I didn't look like much, but I seemed nice and polite and he expected that this assignment would be a cinch. Ha. Apparently, Alcide was new around here.</p><p>After some more formalities, Dr Beaumont got up, and Alcide and I followed suit. We walked back toward the elevators. Beaumont pushed up and Alcide pushed down. The down elevator came first, and Alcide made his goodbyes.</p><p>When the door closed, Dr Beaumont turned to me. "I expect you to be on your very best behaviour tomorrow, Sookie. You represent tens of millions of tax dollars, and this assignment is very important for national security. You need to stay on task, follow your handler's lead, and don't go off half cocked. You will be armed because protocol dictates that you must be armed, but there should be no reason whatsoever that you will need to draw your weapon. You are not to engage. You are to go in, listen, and leave."</p><p>"Yes, ma'am." She always made me feel exactly like I did back when I was a normal telepath who went to school and got sent to the principal's office. Which happened at least 4 times a week.</p><p>She escorted me back to my room. I felt all kinds of excited and anxious and overwhelmed. As far as anyone else could tell, I didn't give a shit.</p><p>By that time, it was past lights out. I pretended to read and scanned the building one more time that night. The building that had been almost my whole world for nearly ten years. I knew pretty much everything about the 90-odd people who worked there. Definitely more than their spouses. Maybe even more than they knew about themselves. And none of them knew a goddamn thing about me. Not really.</p><p>90-odd people, plus Dr Beaumont. Was she even a person? I mean, she wasn't a robot. At least, I didn't think so…</p><p>The lights went out. 10:00 instead of 9:00 tonight. I closed my eyes and dreamed of autonomy.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Fustercluck</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next morning was a whirlwind of activity. After my usual routine, I was taken through a grueling new training regimen with Tray, and then had my ass handed to me by Noam. Apparently, school was over, but work had begun. After a much needed shower, I went back over my briefing materials, just to ground myself a little.</p><p>After lunch (gag), I was on my own. I stood at the window and tried to catch the thoughts of the people who drove by. When I caught one, I tried to see how long I could hold it, and how much info I could get beyond the active thoughts in their heads. Some people were slippery and I couldn't really catch hold at all, while I could sometimes hold onto clear broadcasters for miles once I caught one, picking thoughts from their minds like tomatoes from a vine. Easy as can be. </p><p>That was fun, but it wasn't really practical. I reached out and scanned the building for my new handler. I hadn't read him nearly as much as the rest of the people in the building, and this place was like having to watch the same movies and read the same books over and over again. </p><p>Which was kinda my life in the literal sense, too, now that I thought about it. </p><p>He was back down on the third floor. I spent the next couple of hours learning just about everything there was to know about Alcide Herveaux. His dad was a compulsive gambler (which was somehow missed on Alcide's background check, and he was scared to death that someone would find out). His girlfriend was crazy possessive (emphasis on the crazy). He had a really impressive knowledge of handguns, rifles, and Jim Carrey movies. And, holy shit, Dr Beaumont is a vampire! </p><p>I must have sat there stunned for 10 minutes before I shook myself out of it. I hope I didn't have my mouth hanging open, catching flies as Gran would have said. Had I ever seen her in the daytime? She usually breezed in late in the evening or very early in the morning, like yesterday, just before dawn. How had that never occurred to me before now? </p><p>And how had nobody else known? That seemed extremely unlikely to me. So, how had I not known? I filed that away for later.</p><p>I picked through his brain a while longer, learning all I could of his practical knowledge. I just kinda downloaded his own personal instruction manuals for all the shit he could do down to my own brain, if that makes any sense.</p><p>Will I be able to recall those lessons and use that knowledge at will, months or years later? Who the hell knows? I know it works a lot of the time. My instructors were always so very impressed with how quickly I learned, almost like someone had already shown me how. And there is nothing wrong with my memory. But there's a lot that can be said for practice. </p><p>Mama used to say that listening to other people's thoughts was rude and bad. I suppose she was right. But if I made myself feel bad for it when my own government was going to be forcing me to do it for them… Well, I'm not going to begrudge myself some worthwhile knowledge and entertainment, especially when they were both so hard to come by. </p><p>Alcide checked his watch down on the third floor, which reminded me that it was time to get ready. I dressed in a pretty royal blue cocktail dress, with my gun and knives well out of sight. I put my hair up in a chignon and applied my make-up. I looked every bit the twenty-five year old urban professional that I absolutely was not. I sat on my chair, crossed my legs, and swallowed my excitement. No bouncing knee. No drumming fingers. I refused to look up at the clock. </p><p>Supper (gag) showed up and I mentally stuck my tongue out at it. Not tonight, bland, bland, and bland. Sookie's having steak. Or lobster. Or surf n turf. Did I even like lobster? They look like giant crawdaddies, so I really thought I would. I reminded Kevin that I would be eating out tonight, and he took the tray right back out again. Kevin liked long walks on the beach with his girlfriend, Kenya. And, apparently, upskirt videos. Ew. Pervert.</p><p>Finally, Alcide was on his way. I continued my nonchalant act until he was at my door. I grabbed my new pocketbook with my new bona fides, and we were on our way. We took the elevator down to the sub-basement, where the parking garage was. I was not surprised to see that Alcide drove a pickup truck. </p><p>No, really. I had seen it in his head. What in the hell is it with this kind of man and his pickup truck? Images of his truck seemed to live in the same part of his brain as porn. </p><p>I wondered if Alcide could tell by my heart rate and respirations how excited and nervous I was. I willed them both to slow down. When we turned out of the complex and onto the Parkway, I had to do it again.</p><p>"So, you got any hobbies?" Oh boy. The wolf wanted to chat.</p><p>"Not really."</p><p>"Oh? What do you do in your spare time?"</p><p>"I don't get much spare time, but I guess I read some."</p><p>"How long have you worked for the NSA?"</p><p>Um, really? Did he have no clue anything about me at all? This seemed like a great way to protect the telepath! I could tell he was probably an organized kind of guy because his brain was very orderly. Also, his truck was pretty clean, with no take out containers or anything like that in it. I found what was basically Alcide's brain's Sookie file and took a peek.</p><p>Well, he knew I was a telepath, but he didn't really believe it. He knew that I was staying in my building at the NSA complex. He knew that I was part of Project Sartori and I worked under Beaumont. Well, great! Everything I already knew that he knew from yesterday. </p><p>Nobody told me to keep my mouth shut. Not that I would necessarily let a little thing like that stop me, anyhow. I stared straight ahead, and said, "I was brought to that room where you picked me up when I was 8, just less than 10 years ago, after Dr Beaumont discovered my telepathy. She told my parents that I was extremely disturbed and had to be institutionalized. I haven't seen any of my family since. My parents died in a freak accident on the way home, and my grandmother shortly after of natural causes. My brother was sent to live with my great uncle. I have heard nothing about him or anyone else I used to know since I was 8. I have no idea whether I am an employee of the NSA or a captive, so I don't really know how to answer your question." I sounded like I was reciting the weather.</p><p>Alcide kind of looked like he swallowed a guppy.</p><p>Then I looked over at him with a bored expression and caught his eye. "And, yes, I really am a telepath. You are a Werewolf. Your girlfriend, a werelynx, is named Debbie. She has weird choppy hair and a birthmark on her butt shaped like a heart. You like to call her Lovebutt."<br/>
Sometimes I just have to fuck with them a little to keep myself sane. </p><p>Alcide kind of looked like he swallowed a catfish. But he didn't ask me anything else on the way there. </p><p>Despite my act, I enjoyed the drive immensely. I hadn't left the complex in almost a decade, and this was the first taste of not quite freedom I'd had since then. I was almost disappointed when we got to the restaurant, but the smell of grilled meat that hit me when I climbed out of the truck changed my mind really quick. </p><p>Alcide reached for my arm. "No skin to skin contact," I hissed. He looked taken aback, but instead offered me his elbow. He was wearing a suit jacket over a polo shirt and jeans. I thanked him, slipped my hand into the crook, and we went inside. </p><p>Honestly, I have no idea what they expected. I was barely an adult. I had had no normal experiences for years upon years, locked in a room by myself most of the time. My life had been scheduled down to the minute, and was an endless monotony of sameness, day after day. And I was, after all, unhinged and a danger to myself and others, according to the best and brightest of the US Intelligence Community. Part of me wanted to run screaming for the safety of my room. Part of me wanted to see and touch and taste everything around me, and never ever see that stupid room again. </p><p>But all of me wanted to look at the menu and pick the things that sounded nicest and eat so much not-chicken-or-broccoli-or-eggs-or-oatmeal-or-protein-shake that I felt sick. </p><p>And none of me showed a thing but cool disinterest. </p><p>We were seated in a quiet corner a bit away from the other diners. The first thing I did was read everyone in the restaurant. Not a deep dive, just a scan of current thoughts. I ordered the rib eye steak, a baked potato with the works, and a Caesar salad. I almost missed the congressman sit down at a table across the restaurant. So far, he was alone.  He was a bit of a tough read, but I was able to get the gist of the whole affair. The Russian spy had obtained pictures of the congressman with his lover. His gay lover. And this was a Republican congressman. The Russian agent was blackmailing him for classified information obtained through his membership in the House Intelligence Committee. Whoops. That's awfully close to treason. Bad boys. </p><p>Oh well. That was easy. And my salad wasn't even there yet. Or the Russian. I decided to just keep an ear out and enjoy flavour again.</p><p>The Russian showed up, as did my salad. His dialect was a bit odd, but I was able to read him easily enough. His thoughts lined up perfectly with the congressman's. But why in the hell were they meeting in a famous restaurant in DC at 830 on a Thursday night? The place was packed. I had scanned several political journalists. Sometimes people just weren't very bright. The salad, though, was spectacular.</p><p>Alcide looked really uncomfortable. I suppose he wanted to make conversation so that we looked natural, but he didn't know where the landmines were. I took pity on him. "So, you're from Shreveport?"</p><p>He really didn't appreciate having his mind read. "Uh… Yeah."</p><p>"I’m from Bon Temps."</p><p>"Oh." </p><p>Wow. Good thing this wasn’t a date.</p><p>My steak came, and it was the most glorious thing I had ever put in my mouth. Touching is bad, remember? I decided to scan the room again, just to be on the safe side. I had done a quick read of any new people that I saw come in, but I prided myself on being thorough.</p><p>I caught the tail end of a thought that seemed suspicious and dove in. The group of three men in the corner were part of a right wing militia group from Michigan. They were here in DC scouting locations to plant a bomb to target as many Democratic bigwigs as possible. </p><p>These three guys were mid-level flunkies, and they had no real tangible information that we could use to catch the ringleaders or stop the bombing. They were contacted by the higher ups, not the other way around. We needed to use them to get deeper. I couldn't just let them go.</p><p>Of course, they got up to leave. I had no way to follow them and no way to contact anyone else quickly and discreetly. I had to stop them. </p><p>"Um, excuse me, gentlemen? I think you dropped this."</p><p>They turned. I had grabbed a throwing knife from my garter holster and caught the middle guy right in the throat with the handle end. He made a terrible gurgling sound. I leaped up and hit the one nearest me in the bridge of the nose with the heel of my hand, and then hit him in the orbital socket with my elbow. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.</p><p>Alcide jumped up. "What the fuck are you doing? Stand down!"</p><p>I grabbed the steak knife off my plate and ran at the final attacker… er… terrorist. I think maybe technically I was the attacker. He was pulling a gun from his holster when I stabbed him through the hand. He screamed and turned to run, but I used his momentum to spin him around and throw him into the first guy, who had recovered his ability to breathe and was starting to get frisky again. </p><p>Unfortunately, they both slammed into a table full of Supreme Court Justices. Whoops. </p><p>I sat back down at my seat, wondering how I was going to finish the rest of my steak without a knife. Alcide looked apoplectic. The bad guy with the hole in his hand made to get up, so I grabbed my plate and threw it like a frisbee. It hit him between the eyes and he collapsed again. What was left of my poor steak bounced off the plate and into a judge's lap. I think it was Kennedy's.</p><p>"I can tell when you're getting ready to make a move, asshole, so sit down and shut the fuck up until the cavalry arrives. Unless you want me to stab you again?"</p><p>The entire restaurant was silent. I sat there in the middle of the mayhem and everybody just stared. Alcide cleared his throat. "Uh… Nothing to see here, folks. Just go about your business…" They didn't. </p><p>I secured the three men with the zipties I had in my purse. When the second guy finally woke up and started struggling, I punched him in the face. That shut him up.</p><p>I learned that night that vampires can hypnotize people to forget (among other things), and it’s called glamour. It took Dr Beaumont almost an hour and a half to glamour the memories of tonight out of all the other diners. Tricky business to hold that many powerful people there for so long. Not to mention the Secret Service.</p><p>When we got back to the building, I let Dr Beaumont and Alcide in on the blackmail and treason, as well as the terrorists' plans. Somehow, it didn’t seem to smooth things over much. I was then formally debriefed. The terrorists were interrogated, and I wasn't asked to read them again. Unfortunately, they were then released because they hadn't technically done anything yet. But they were glamoured to call the NSA the next time they were contacted, their phones and homes were bugged, and their cars were GPS chipped. I didn't get a thank you.</p><p>Back up in my room, I listened to Alcide absolutely lose his shit at Dr Beaumont downstairs. He didn't even say ma'am once. I didn't think he had the balls, to be honest. There was a lot of talk about how I had completely blown our cover, how much of a loose cannon I am, that I endangered him and every person in the restaurant, and that I would get my partner killed within the month, and it wasn't going to be him. It was nice to hear that he mostly blamed them for making me this way, although I wasn't sure that I believed it. I lost Alcide's brain then, and I realized that it was his turn to be glamoured. I respect Dr Beaumont the same way I respect a cottonmouth, and I respected the hell out of her right in that moment. </p><p>1125 PM and finally the lights went out. I allowed myself to relax and felt the emotions I'd been tamping down all day run free. My new friends, excitement and anticipation, were nowhere to be found. I was all alone again with my old pals, anger and loneliness. We had been really close for a long long time. I closed my eyes and almost wished for the comfort and safety of monotony.</p><p>And, dammit, I never did get that piece of cake.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Fight Like A Girl</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next afternoon, I was sparring with Tray in the gym when Alcide came in, wearing a suit and carrying a duffle. He was a really big guy, and the suit was definitely off the rack. Oof. He didn't look happy to be there, but apparently he hadn't quit afterall. He came over near the ring to watch.</p><p>As we fought, I listened in on Alcide's thoughts. He was very impressed with my speed, but he didn't think a girl like me could do much damage to a human man, let alone a Were like him or Tray. Of course, I didn't really move that fast when we were just sparring like this.</p><p>This was going to be fun.</p><p>"Hey, Herveaux. Do you want to go a round or two?"</p><p>"Sparring? Not really my cup of tea."</p><p>"No. We can do full contact."</p><p>"Oh, little girl. That's not going to happen."</p><p>Tray just stood back and grinned. He thought Alcide was probably going to take the bait. He was looking forward to watching him get his ass beat.</p><p>So was I.</p><p>"Come on. We'll use headgear and gloves."</p><p>"I am not going to lose my job for killing the government's telepath."</p><p>I laughed out loud. "I fight Tray, Noam, and Calvin every single day. Sometimes all at once. It's fine. Let's go. You have workout gear?"</p><p>"Yeah…"</p><p>Alcide looked at Tray, who nodded encouragingly. Alcide shrugged, grabbed the bag that he'd set at his feet, and went into the locker room. Tray looked at me and we both laughed. His laugh quickly turned into a sad smile. "You don't do that enough, kid."</p><p>I rolled my eyes at him, and he walked me to the corner of the ring and started taping my hands, making sure not to touch my bare skin unless absolutely necessary.</p><p>"Keep your wits about you. Read his mind so you can keep ahead of his moves. If he gets a shot in, don’t get flustered. Shake it off and keep reading him. He's a big man, so use your speed. You know he'll be fast, but you're faster."</p><p>"Jesus, Tray. It isn't like I haven't been doing this for half my life now."</p><p>"Jesus, Sookie," he mocked back, "I have to pretend like I still have stuff to teach you so I can keep my job."</p><p>Tray was my favourite person here. I let myself be me a little with Tray, when it was just the two of us. He genuinely thought the world of me. He treated me like a real normal person. And he wasn't a creep; he thought of me almost like a daughter.</p><p>There were always people watching, so of course I was never demonstrative, but I'm sure he knew that I cared for him, too.</p><p>Alcide came out in a pair of blue track pants and a wife beater. Yum. A vast improvement over the suit. Tray offered to wrap his hands.</p><p>"Not gonna complain about a little skin to skin contact in the ring?" Alright. Let the taunting begin, then.</p><p>"I'll manage. Not gonna complain about getting the shit beat out of you by a human girl?"</p><p>He snorted. But he'd see.</p><p>"I won't."</p><p>"You won't complain, or you won't get beat?"</p><p>He looked at me blandly. "Neither."</p><p>We put on the gloves. Alcide barked, "I'm not wearing the fucking headgear." I shrugged. Fine with me. We met in the middle of the ring. Tray stood to the side and said, "No biting, no shifting, no nutshots, and I will break up clinching. It's very uncomfortable for Sookie. I want a clean fight. Touch gloves." We did.</p><p>"Oh, and keep your fingers out of his eyes, ears, nose, throat, and asshole, Sookie."</p><p>"Tray, I'm wearing boxing gloves."</p><p>"Well, your thumbs then. Fight!"</p><p>And it was on.</p><p>I started slow and easy. No need to let him know what he was in for just yet. I didn't look very intimidating, an 18 year old girl wearing a sports bra and athletic spandex boy shorts. I was built like a brick shithouse - I had big tits, more than my share of junk in my trunk, and curvy hips, but I was solid fucking muscle underneath. I was also 5'5" and was a little over 130 pounds, a far cry from Alcide's impressive height and weight. Thing is, though, I was way stronger and faster than a human girl had any right to be. All of my senses were heightened as well. I was told it had something to do with the vitamin regimen I was on that went into my protein shakes. They arrived premixed, so I'd had no luck getting details from the brains in the kitchen.</p><p>Alcide wasn't gonna know what hit him.</p><p>It was going to be me.</p><p>"You gonna keep dancing, or are you gonna try to hit me, little girl?"</p><p>"Oh, I was waiting for you to go. I was thinking about giving you a freebie."</p><p>"No, ladies first."</p><p>"I'm not a fuckin’ lady," I grinned back.</p><p>I really should have insisted that he at least wear a mouth guard.</p><p>I decided to let Alcide have his way, so I threw the first punch. I ducked in low and landed a shot to his solar plexus. I pulled it at the last moment, but it still packed a wallop. He coughed a couple of times, and his eyes looked a little bulgy, but he recovered very quickly. That’s Weres for you. He shook his head and muttered, "Damn, she's fast," under his breath.</p><p>He started dancing again, and so did I. His brain telegraphed his punch and I had plenty of time to dodge, and take my time about it. I landed two tight jabs to the body, left right, when he whiffed. He threw a right that I easily ducked, and my right landed hard on the left side of his jaw.</p><p>He was getting pissed. Pissed meant reckless and sloppy. He punched and I dodged or blocked and struck, over and over. I could clearly read every move he was going to make, but he was too riled up to slow down and switch to a defensive position. I started concentrating most of my blows on his shoulders and biceps, and he was having a hard time keeping his arms up to guard his face.</p><p>He was gearing up to throw a wild haymaker at the side of my head, and I beat him to the punch. I struck him hard in the nose, and we all heard the crunch. Blood spurted out of his nostrils. He reached up and grabbed the bridge of his nose awkwardly between his gloved thumbs, and yanked. Holy yikes. But when he pulled his hands away, his nose was straightish, and the bleeding had mostly stopped, so I guessed we were ready to go again.</p><p>He finally started to move by instinct, and landed a glancing blow to my cheek that I didn't see coming until it was almost too late. I saw stars. But then he second guessed himself, and I easily blocked the follow-up. I winced, but jabbed the shit out of his nose again. He roared in pain and rage, but refused to end the fight, even though it wouldn't stop bleeding for almost ten minutes.</p><p>Tray was getting kind of worried and was wondering if he should call security or just let us finish. I had landed dozens of clean punches. Alcide had hit me once, and it wasn't even a great shot. He was out of his mind with anger and humiliation, and seemed to feel that his entire self-worth was wrapped up in this fight. This was not the fun I had in mind.</p><p>I needed to deescalate the situation, or Alcide was going to lose his career, or worse. He was just seething, and if he missed another punch, or I landed one, or if I stopped the fight and walked away, he was going to lose control and shift. His thoughts were already becoming more snarly and wild, and his skin almost seemed to ripple, like the bones and muscles underneath were shifting and moving. It would be a career-ender for sure. Eyes are on us all the time, and to shift in anger while fighting the government's… well… the government's property? You bet they're going to protect their investment, and Alcide would be hung out to dry.</p><p>But I wasn't just going to let him beat me, either, especially since I had no confidence at all that he'd be able to stop once he started. Even with Tray here, he could do some serious damage to me. He was just going to have to take the L. And, unfortunately, the concussion. I feinted, he fell for it, and I hit him with an uppercut to the chin, followed with a hard right hook just under his ear. Lights out. He landed in a heap, but started moaning and twitching right away.</p><p>"Better go back to your room, Sookie," Tray urged, and then shifted into a wolf. He stood guard in the ring with Alcide while I waited for Stan to come and escort me back to my room. I wasn't sure whether he was protecting me from Alcide or vice versa.</p><p>Alcide was fine after he woke up. A bruised ego, a very broken nose, and a minor concussion. I heard that he took on a new assignment in Jackson. I hope he does well.</p><p>Supper came (not ribeye, not baked potato with the works, not Caesar salad) and I ate everything and wished for cake. Later that evening, I scanned the building and was surprised to see Dr Beaumont here. She was in the elevator, presumably on her way up to come see me. Not too many people here tonight, and she'd already passed the floor her office is on.</p><p>I followed her void right to my door, and I invited her in before she had the chance to knock.</p><p>"Sookie, I'm afraid that Alcide isn't going to work out as your handler."</p><p>"Yes, ma'am. I kind of figured." I allowed myself a smirk.</p><p>"We have arranged for a replacement. His name is John Quinn, and he's a weretiger. He's almost a legend around here, so you should feel very honoured that he's going to be your handler."</p><p>Oh, gross.</p><p>"Yes, ma'am."</p><p>Not cowed. Stoic. I hoped.</p><p>"He will be here tomorrow, and we'll go over the details of your next assignment. It will require your computer skills. You'll be going undercover as a husband and wife internet startup at a tech conference."</p><p>In a hotel with God's gift to the NSA. No, thank you.</p><p>"Will this require an overnight stay at the conference, ma'am?"</p><p>"Yes, Sookie. There are several different events, and some people will be arriving later in the week. We need you to read everyone."</p><p>"I will not share a room with a stranger."</p><p>"I'm sorry, Sookie, but the arrangements have already been made. The hotel is booked solid for the conference."</p><p>"You can get him his own room, or he can sleep in the fucking bathroom."</p><p>"Sookie, he is your handler, and he needs to be in the room for your protection, and to keep your cover safe."</p><p>Apparently, I was pissed off enough to drop my ma'ams. I looked her dead in the eyes.</p><p>"If he fucking touches me, he's dead. You tell him. No skin to skin contact. He sleeps on the fucking floor, or I cut off his junk in the middle of the night."</p><p>And she knows I'd do it, too. I have done similar before.</p><p>"We’ll have eyes and ears in the room. You will be safe. I promise."</p><p>I took a slow breath and found my centre. I let it out. Calm</p><p>"Thank you, ma'am." With only the barest hint of sarcasm.</p><p>Then, very thankfully, she left.</p><p>I did my nightly routine and said goodnight to the building. The few thoughts left this time of night were familiar, and comfortable, and they felt like home. And that was probably the saddest thing I'd ever thought.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Conventioneering</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I knew the second John Quinn walked into the building. Each brain he passed in turn lit up like a goddamn Christmas tree. You’d think that Jesus Christ himself had waltzed into Building H. Or at least Tom Cruise. Was Tom Cruise still popular? I followed the back slapping and hand shaking all the way up the elevator and then down the hall to my room. He didn’t bother to knock, and the door was only locked on the inside. Fortunately, I was sitting in my chair dressed in shorts and a T-shirt.</p><p>He was huge, but no off the rack suit for this guy; he even smelled expensive. He was a good looking man, if you liked the big bald buff badass type. I didn’t particularly, although his purple eyes were startlingly beautiful. A quick peek in his brain told me that Quinn was every bit the legend in his own mind that I expected him to be. He was very sure of his own talents, abilities, and sex appeal. Too sure. He had crossed over from confident to cocky, which was about the worst case scenario as far as I was concerned. The last thing I needed was a handler whose ego I would have to stroke to keep myself safe. I did not stroke egos, or anything else.</p><p>I was not remotely impressed. He stood in my doorway and stared, his stupid purple eyes settling on my boobs. “Tight little body and huge tits. She smells so fucking good. Barely legal, and a virgin! I can’t wait to get a taste.” He hadn’t spoken a word, but his thoughts were coming through clear as a bell. Oh, boy. </p><p>“You must be Quinn. I’m Sookie. I’m the asset. The telepath. The one who does the fucking work. You’re my little helper who watches me work and makes sure I don’t get hurt. I don’t touch people. Especially you. I can read your mind, and you will not be tasting a goddamn thing. Got it?” I also wasn't a virgin, but I wasn't about to go there with this guy.</p><p>Quinn laughed out loud, and I relaxed a little. I checked his brain, and he was legitimately amused and somewhat remorseful. Good. I didn't think the NSA would agree with my assessment of our jobs; Quinn was here to be my babysitter as much as anything else. And technically I was supposed to follow his orders. But fuck that. I didn't need to be babysat. Or protected, for that matter. As far as I was concerned, handlers were anchors with personal problems.</p><p>“Sorry, Babe. What can I say? I can be a bit of a dirt bag sometimes. I apologize. I’ll try not to let it happen again.”</p><p>“Do more than try. So, you’re a tiger?”</p><p>“Yup. A bengal.” The pride was dripping off him.</p><p>"That's nice." I sounded as bored as I felt.</p><p>I crossed my legs and kept up eye contact. Eventually, he looked away. Score another one for me. </p><p>“Well, I just wanted to introduce myself. I guess I’ll let myself out.”</p><p>I laughed. “If you don’t have your new badge yet, you’re going to have to use the intercom to have Stan down at security do it. Some of us aren’t allowed to come and go as we please.”</p><p>He made eye contact again, but quickly let it slip away. He pulled the lanyard with his new badge out from inside his shirt, scanned the barcode on the sensor, and the door opened. He didn’t say anything else before he left.</p><p>Fortunately, he only went down as far as the third floor. He had been a pit fighter, and he was a wealth of information on how to fight down and dirty. Even in his human form. </p><p>I snooped around in his brain some more. Quinn had been in hawk to a bunch of vampires, who had rescued his mother from a gang of rapists. He got saved by the NSA, who bought out his contract and made him an agent. He'd been a rock star in the agency ever since. Not for anything he did, but because of who and what he was. </p><p>I didn't like the broad streak of malice that tainted some of his thoughts. I could tell that Quinn could be a good guy, but there was a big part of him that could be mean, and would enjoy it. He also had some blank spots, but those were pretty par for the course, at least around here. I guessed that it had something to do with glamouring.</p><p>That evening, Dr Beaumont escorted me down to the 3rd floor again, where we met with Quinn and went over our briefing materials. The convention was going to be held in DC at a large hotel. Swanky. We would be John and Susannah Quinn, a husband and wife team with a hot new health and fitness start up.</p><p>We certainly looked the part, and the .com business had been up, running, and successful for months, registered under an LLC. How many dummy businesses and professions did the NSA have running in the background, just waiting for me to use them once and never again? And what about the poor people whose work I kept stealing?</p><p>I was going to be looking for any information about a web scraper bot that was able to access protected websites and steal personal information, including passwords, social security numbers, banking information, and even secret government files. </p><p>Quinn didn't really know shit about computers, so I was going to be the techie of the relationship. Fine by me. I would rather not have to trust anyone to do the job but myself. He could be the people person. Beaumont was not forthcoming about who might have the information, or how the NSA knew about it, or how they knew someone at the convention would know something. </p><p>Beaumont went over the arrangements, and made sure to remind Quinn to avoid contact and of the sleeping arrangements - me on the bed, him on the floor. It was a load off my mind. He was a perfect gentleman for the entire meeting.</p><p>The next day, Quinn and I drove to DC in his (surprise surprise) pickup truck. He was dressed in a black tank top and ridiculous pants that made him look like a genie. I wore a business suit. He checked us into the hotel first, and we took our bags to our room. As expected, there was only one bed, but there was a couch, at least. We unloaded our stuff, and I took the time to unpack. Quinn was less than thrilled, but too fucking bad for him.</p><p>The convention center was on the second floor, so we headed down there to check into the convention. In the second floor lobby, just outside the elevators, a man and woman stood behind a table covered in name tags. The man held a clipboard. I was kind of amused that they were doing it so old school at a tech convention. </p><p>Quinn barked, "John and Susannah Quinn." The man checked off our names and the woman handed us our nametags and a schedule. </p><p>These two were having an affair, but they didn't have anything to do with the web bot. We headed into the convention hall. </p><p>There were exhibitor booths set up all around the perimeter, and the middle of the room had a couple of fancy coffee kiosks and bistro-type seating. The place was just buzzing with people. There were some nerdy types, but also a lot of very wealthy, very attractive, very young adults. The .com boom in action. I said quietly to Quinn, "Let's just walk the circuit a couple of times. I'll do a quick scan for anything pressing. Then we can find a quiet corner, and I'll dig around for anything criminal."</p><p>I started to walk, and he reached down and grabbed my hand. I froze. After nearly dragging me forward, he stopped and turned back. “What?”</p><p>I tried to yank my hand away, but he held it tighter, for a moment grinding the bones together. He was much stronger than any of my trainers had been. I forgot to be quiet. “Listen, you son of a bitch…”</p><p>He dragged me to a corner by my hand and hissed in my ear, “We are supposed to be married. You’re causing a fucking scene.”</p><p>I hissed back. “I don’t give a damn. I told you and Beaumont told you. I don’t do contact. Put on sleeves and I’ll hold your arm. Hold on to my elbow. I have sleeves! Place your hand in the small of my back. I don’t give a shit. But my skin is off fucking limits, especially if I’m trying to work. All I can fucking hear is you.” I really wasn’t there to find out what hot shit Quinn thought he was, or how much he wanted to get into my pants.</p><p>He squeezed my hand again, hard, but then let it go. He looked almost puzzled for a moment, but then rested his hand at the small of my back and started escorting me slowly around the convention hall, pretending to look at the vendor booths. I did a quick scan of everyone in here, then the rest of the floor, and then the rest of the hotel. We had made about two and a half circuits of the room.</p><p>I looked over at him and nodded that I had finished. The deep dive was going to be tricky; with this many people coming and going, keeping track of which brain was whose and making sure I didn't miss anyone was going to be a huge pain in the ass. I could read many active thoughts at once, but to get in there and search around took a lot more effort, and I could only do one at a time. </p><p>I led us over to a table nearest the far end of the room. Quinn went to the coffee kiosk and stood in line. He had asked what I took in mine, but I really had no idea. Starting at one end of the room, I searched through each brain for any information on the web scraping software and for any other information I felt I needed to know. And for anything on vampires, just because. But it wasn't a quick process, and with so many people coming and going, it was going to take a long time. We could go back to the room and I could read from there, but locating a person, sight unseen, from just their thoughts could be a tricky thing. The slightest distraction could cause me to lose hold, and then finding them again in a crowd of strangers was kind of like finding a needle in a haystack. If I could see the person I was reading, it was just easier all around. </p><p>Quinn dropped off a coffee and muffin for me (Date bran with real butter. And I wasn't even mad about it) and stood a bit to the side to intercept any incoming people. He was a people person, and was soon chatting with several convention goers. I was sitting in front of a laptop, clearly immersed in work, as a visual do not disturb. I connected to the hotel wifi and used the hotkey shortcut to disable the keylogger some NSA techie had installed. He'd shown Lorena, an analyst who had been in the room during my last debriefing, all about it. I pulled up an incognito browser window. I kept a close eye on Quinn's thoughts to make sure he didn't see what I was up to. I logged into the NSA website using Arlene from personnel's credentials. I had everyone's in the building except Beaumont's, and more from people elsewhere in the complex. I had read them during their comings and goings. I had others from the CIA, FBI, ICE and every other alphabet agency, as far as I knew. And I knew a lot.</p><p>Being so familiar with other people's minds had sort of made me able to… reverse hack my own, I guess. I could file through my own thoughts, too, and had unlocked an eidetic memory. It came in handy. </p><p>I pulled up Quinn's personnel file. A few commendations. Only one written complaint, unsurprisingly for sexual harassment. Ruled unfounded. Of course, government agencies, like every other entity run by powerful men, were notorious for sweeping bad behaviour under the rug. But maybe I was overreacting. He was doing a good job of fielding the fellow "techies" looking to network, bullshitting about how he'd had the idea for a personal trainer website, and how I had provided the technical know-how to get it made. I cleared my cache and history, just in case, closed the incognito window, and reactivated the keystroke logger. </p><p>I enjoyed the coffee, and the muffin was delightful. I continued pretending to work on the laptop, reading people, for a couple of hours until Quinn caught my eyes, making sure not to touch me. I appreciated the gesture. "Let's go down to the restaurant to get a bite to eat. Then we can go to the mixer this evening in the ballroom." He held his arm out to me, and then started before putting on a track jacket he must have gotten from the room at some point. He had placed it on the chair opposite me. He offered again and I took his arm. And even said thank you. </p><p>"I got about half done, I'd say. A couple of hundred, at least. I'll lose a little time sorting the ones I've done and not done, but it shouldn't be too big a deal. And I'll be able to work through dinner."</p><p>"Anything so far?"</p><p>"No. Nothing at all about the scraper." A fair bit of computer how-to, including data mining and hacking. I also found some information on vampires, but no way to tell whether it was from people actually in the know, or just superstitious people and conspiracy theorists.</p><p>We took the elevator down to the first floor and were quickly seated in the restaurant. I ordered a cheeseburger, fries, and a Coke. We made a bit of small talk while I read the room. Many of the diners were also part of the convention. The food arrived quickly.</p><p>When I took my first bite, I was transported back in time, sitting on the stools at The Crawdad Diner with my Daddy. He would sometimes cut out of work early and pick me up from school and take me there on Daddy daughter dates, especially when I was struggling more than usual with my telepathy. I would always order the cheeseburger, and he would order the etouffee. The spell was broken when Quinn said, "I'll try to do most of the talking at the mixer so you can keep working. Just try to stick with me, and I'll tell personal trainer stories about celebrities all night long. I did it in Vegas for years and have a million of them." I took a peek in his brain and, sure enough, he had done some personal training before he had been forced into the pits.</p><p>I knew at the mixer I'd have to make some conversation. I was hoping that I would be able to glean context clues from their heads and not make a fool of myself. I had so little personal knowledge of fundamental things like living in the real world and having any type of relationship other than a professional one, let alone little things like popular culture and other stuff that's supposed to be common knowledge. I didn't waste time reading minds to find out what famous people are doing or what TV shows are popular. I was just going to have to wing it and blame any lack in knowledge or experience I couldn't grab on the fly on my inherent nerdiness. </p><p>After dinner, we headed back to the second floor, to the ballroom. The lights were lowered to 50%, and the music was low enough to make conversation easy. There were a few people on the dance floor, but most people were gathered in groups, talking. The schedule said that there would be a dance with a cash and ticket bar here in the ballroom the following night, which was sure to be darker, louder, and drunker.</p><p>As good as his word, by the end of the night, Quinn had gathered a huge group around us and had kept the conversation moving so well that I hardly had to do more than introduce myself a few times. The hand-shaking sucked when I couldn’t get away with a nod, but I muddled through (and tried to keep my hands full or out of sight as much as possible). I was able to pass as a normal person, albeit shy and kind of awkward, as far as I could tell from the brains around me. I was also able to finish reading the rest of the conventioneers, at least the ones who had come to the mixer. </p><p>By 930 that night, I was in sensory overload, and so ready to get away from so many people. As a child, a crowd like this would have caused a huge meltdown because of my telepathy. So many thoughts at once just overwhelmed me. These days, I could easily use my shields and block out the noise. And distracting myself from being so far outside my comfort zone with my telepathy was the only thing keeping me sane. When I was a child, the telepathy made me a freak. Now, I could just look in and practically read what I was supposed to say, which made me appear kind of normal. But I was still a  long way from normal, and this had been a very busy day, in a very public place, where I had to try to look normal and act normal while doing work that took a huge amount of mental effort. I was beat.</p><p>I was able to drag Quinn away from the horde without too much trouble, and he again offered his jacketed elbow to escort me back to our room. When we got there, I changed in the bathroom (I was certainly not modest at all after being watched 24/7, but I also wasn’t stupid enough to parade around naked alone in a bedroom with a huge weretiger eager to jump my bones), brushed my teeth, and steeled myself for the awkwardness. Fortunately, Quinn was already bunked out on the couch with a spare blanket from the closet, and a couple of pillows off the bed.</p><p>We both said good night, and I climbed into the bed. I scanned the building before I fell asleep, as I always did. It took a lot longer than usual, of course. By the time I was through, Quinn was snoring. After the hand holding incident, he had really shaped up and helped me a lot. Keeping me free to work while staying out of my way and talking everyone else’s ear off was the perfect way to support the telepath, as far as I was concerned. I was starting to think we could make a decent team if he could keep his hands to himself and not be a dirtbag.</p><p>It took a long time for me to fall asleep, but I finally did. And maybe with a little smile on my face.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Eye Of The Tiger</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next morning, Quinn and I ordered room service for breakfast. I could tell that he would have rathered that we’d gone down to the restaurant, but I really wanted to insulate myself a little before I had to go back down and face the crowds. Plus, I wasn’t paying. I ordered every little thing on the menu that caught my fancy - coffee, juice, milk, fresh fruit, pancakes, bacon, sausages, waffles, and french toast. Quinn ordered an egg white omelet, wheat toast (dry), and black coffee. He should have some gluey oatmeal and a protein shake, too.</p><p>I took a quick shower and got dressed in a sundress and cardigan while we waited. My legs and hands and head were bare, but I was mostly protected from unwanted accidental touches.</p><p>When the food arrived, I dove in. It was magnificent. Quinn was looking at me like I was both crazy and disgusting.  What an asshole. “What the fuck is your problem?” I said around a mouthful of pancakes.</p><p>“All of that shit you’re eating. Do you always eat like a little kid? You’re gonna get fat as fuck if you eat like that all of the time.”</p><p>Ah, yes. Surely I needed a man around to tell me what I should and should not eat. Jerk. I took a peek in his head and realized what the real problem was. Quinn was jealous that I was eating bacon and sausage and pancakes with real maple syrup, while he was stuck with an egg white omelet. Ha!</p><p>“Look. I have eaten the same thing for breakfast every single day for nearly ten years. Give me a fucking break, OK? And if you want some, help yourself. I’ll never be able to eat it all, and one day or so won’t kill you. Technically, this is just a stakeout on steroids, right? Aren’t food rules usually suspended for stakeouts, anyway?”</p><p>That was one I heard a lot around the complex. Rationalizations amused the hell out of me, but I was, of course, subject to them as well. A couple of things most people were good at was lying to themselves, and convincing themselves to do things they knew they shouldn’t but really wanted to. People’s brains were so predictable in some ways, and so scattershot in others.</p><p>“Good point.” Ha ha! See? Quinn dumped his omelet in the garbage can and heaped his plate with the good stuff. We ate in companionable silence. </p><p>“There’s more vendors in the convention center this morning, and then a keynote speaker in the afternoon. That should give you plenty of time to read any newcomers, yeah, Babe?”</p><p>“Sure. Does that mean we’re skipping the dance?”</p><p>“Nah. I think we should make an appearance, at least. But we don’t need to stay more than an hour or so. Any people you miss tonight, you can get tomorrow. That’s when the new tech exhibitions start. It’s the real meat of the conference, so just about everyone should be here by tomorrow afternoon or evening. The big names will, of course, be unveiling their stuff later, so there might be some stragglers.”</p><p>“Does the NSA think one of the big names is behind the web scraper?”</p><p>Quinn hesitated, and I could tell that some of what he knew was just… gone. Like a part had been almost rubbed away. He looked confused for a second, but then his forehead smoothed out. “We don’t know.”</p><p>Well, he certainly didn’t. Quinn took a quick shower, and got dressed in another tank and genie pants. The better to dazzle chicks with his muscles in, my dear. I guess that made him the big bad tiger. He did wear his track jacket down to the second floor, though, so I could hold his elbow comfortably as he escorted me down. I tried my best again on the small talk front, but it definitely wasn’t one of my strengths. The weather pretty much never affected me as I was almost never outside, and the building remained at 70 degrees no matter what time of the day or year. I didn’t follow sports, or any type of entertainment. Not my fault. Until my eighteenth birthday, I had a very strict routine, but it was classified. Now, I hardly did anything between missions, other than eat the same five foods, work out, and read people’s minds. Also, why ask questions when I can just check the brain for answers? </p><p>It didn’t leave much to chat about. I had taken to watching computer videos through the security guards’ eyes and ears when they were fucking off on the job. Unfortunately, some of them watched a whole lot of porn. I really didn’t want to be in their brains then. Gross. And did I really want to have a “So, have you seen the dancing baby video?” conversation? Not really.</p><p>We went back into the convention hall with our name tags on, and found an empty table in the centre. Quinn got in line again at the coffee kiosk. I set up my laptop so I would look too busy to approach. It didn’t work.</p><p>“Well, hiya! My name is Belinda! I just got here this morning. Isn’t this place crazy? I just have a little old website for my artwork. I wasn’t expecting anything like this!”</p><p>“Oh! Hi! I’m Sook… uh… Susannah. Quinn. Uh, nice to meet you.” Wow, Sookie. Great job. So natural.</p><p>“Well, nice to meet you, Susannah! Where are y’all from? I live in Tennessee now, but I’m originally from Jackson.”</p><p>“I’ve lived in Maryland since I was a young girl, but I used to live in Louisiana.” No idea if I was supposed to say that. Shit? Or meh? I wasn’t really sure HOW I felt about this. I just hoped Quinn came back soon.</p><p>"Hey! I lived in Shreveport for a little bit!"</p><p>I listened in, and she was just interested in getting to know people. I could do this. “My husband, Quinn, and I have a website that connects people with personal trainers in their area. It also has online trainers who can help you at home. With a subscription, of course. That’s him in line over at the coffee stand. The big bald guy.”</p><p>“Oh, yum! I’d let him train me any day. Or make a train with me. Choo choo! All aboard!”</p><p>Oh, wow. That would be inappropriate as hell if I gave a shit. I liked this Belinda, and even smirked a little. She cringed. “I’m so sorry! Sometimes I just say every little thing that jumps into my brain. I can’t help it. I have chronic foot in mouth disease. I can’t believe you call your husband by your last name! That’s so weird!”</p><p>“Everyone does. I’d feel strange calling him John.” Especially since I hardly knew the man.</p><p>Unsurprisingly, after I peeked, I confirmed that Belinda didn’t know anything about the web scraper. She did, however, know A LOT about vampires. She was even a vampire’s day person for a short while when she lived in Shreveport! A strange profession for someone who couldn’t keep her mouth shut. She knew a lot, and it wasn’t erased, but it was kind of separated off from other memories, and almost shielded. Very interesting. I decided to give it a little test. I found a tidbit of information from her mind and… embellished a bit.</p><p>I leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “I heard that a Japanese company is unveiling a synthetic blood at this convention, and soon vampires will be revealing to us that they’re real! Can you believe it?” All of this was apparently true - except for the timeframe and venue. The blood wouldn’t be announced yet for at least a year or two, as far as Belinda knew, so neither would the vampires. </p><p>Thoughts about vampires came to the surface. I could see the words she wanted to say, clear as day. But, despite opening her mouth twice to reply, “Wow! Vampires are real?” she finally gave up and said, “Wow! That’s crazy!” Huh. So, she could remember just fine; her trusty little mental vampire index fired right up, but it seemed like she couldn’t really say anything about them. Very interesting indeed. I tried again. Something easy...</p><p>“Yes, I’ve met one before. Did you know that they are supposed to drink people’s blood?” She looked at me like I was crazy, and tried to say, “Of course, dumbass.” or something in that wheelhouse, but again, nothing came out. She rolled her eyes and nodded her head. She had also apparently had enough of me, and she hightailed it the hell out of there with a, "Well, see you!". I held on and scoured her brain for all of the info on vampires that she had, which was not only a lot, but was also sure to be at least somewhat accurate. She hadn’t had the job for more than a few months, but she had obviously ended it on a good note, since she had all of her memories (and was, you know, still alive). Her employer had been a tiny beautiful blonde vampire who wore twinsets and drove a mini van. </p><p>Quinn came back, dropped off my coffee (Apparently I didn’t need a muffin after my enormously fattening breakfast), and stood off to the side again, ready to “network” or “synergize” or whatever other hackneyed word the corporate assholes were using now. I would always hear a lot of bitching about corporate speak from the service employees after meetings with their supervisors.  I didn’t blame them at all. People aren’t always smart, but just about everyone knows when they’re being talked down to and manipulated. They and their supervisors were all contractors and not government employees, and were therefore part of the private sector. Not that government agencies and the military were free from this sort of thing. Not by a long shot.</p><p>Wow. Apparently I was feeling cynical today! Shocker. And after such a nice breakfast, too. Gran would be ashamed. Part of me almost said, “Fuck Gran,” but of course I didn’t mean THAT. What I really meant was that Gran would understand, I think, where my cynicism came from, and I don’t think that she would begrudge it to me. </p><p>I pretended to work on the laptop all morning, and continued to read the convention goers. Quinn talked and talked and talked, and didn’t seem to grow tired of it at all. I have no idea how much of what he said about himself was real, since he was certainly not going to tell all and sundry that he was a weretiger, a spy for the NSA, and a former illegal pit fighter, but he certainly had plenty to say about John Quinn, the personal trainer and entrepreneur. He even mentioned “the little woman” once or twice. Yay.</p><p>When I finished the Convention Hall, I extended out to the rest of this floor, then the main floor lobby and restaurant, and then the hotel itself, floor by floor. If I heard any news of the scraper, but lost hold, we could at least go to that floor and walk the halls until I found it again. But there was nothing. I had been sitting pretending to work on the laptop for a couple of hours, and my butt was going to sleep. I said to Quinn, “Let’s take a walk. I can’t sit here any longer.” </p><p>We gathered our things and walked around the circuit again. Most vendors were the same as yesterday. I asked, “How long until the speaker starts?”  </p><p>“We got about three hours.”</p><p>“I need a break. OK with you if we hit the weight room?”</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>We went back up to our room and changed. Apparently, my vitamin regimen was super important, and the bar fridge had enough for me to have one shake a day. Shudder. Oh well. I downed it quickly then went into the bathroom to change into some workout gear.</p><p>When I came out in yoga pants and a sports bra, he leered, and his brain just shot right into Sookie Quinn porn. Yuck. I slammed my shields up and gave him an annoyed look. “Sorry.” He didn't have to change, so we headed down to the third floor, which held the pool, a games room, a sauna, and the weight room. There were exercise bikes, ellipticals, and rowing machines, as well as a weight machine and a bench with free weights.</p><p>“Need a spotter?” Quin offered.</p><p>“Sure. Just please try not to touch, OK?”</p><p>He grunted and nodded. I started adding weights to the bar, and his eyes started to bulge. I added the collars, clamped them down, and laid down on the weight bench to do bench presses. He said, “What the fuck are you doing?”</p><p>“Ten reps.” Duh.</p><p>“You put 450 pounds on the bar.”</p><p>“Yeah…”</p><p>“Babe. That’s about four times your weight.”</p><p>“Not hardly. Less than three and a half, anyhow. But thanks! That was very sweet.”</p><p>I grinned and did ten reps. I waited thirty seconds and did ten more. “Jesus Christ. How much can you deadlift?”</p><p>“Once? Seven-fifty? Maybe eight.”</p><p>“Jesus Fucking Christ.”</p><p>Unlike Alcide, Quinn was impressed as hell that I could outlift him. He didn’t have his ego wrapped up in what I could do at all. Fighting might have been different, but honestly I wasn’t sure that I could best Quinn in a fight. He had had a lot more practice with a lot more at stake. I hadn’t ever been in much danger of life and limb like he had. Not really.</p><p>We made a game of it; he set the weights at the most he could lift for each exercise, and then we would see who could do the most reps. We would go as high as twenty-five, but no more. He wanted to protect us from injury a little bit, at least. I got twenty-five in everything except the deadlift, and crushed him. He was completely blown away, and it made me feel really good about myself. And we had a lot of fun competing. I grinned at him. He replied, “You should smile more.”</p><p>Ugh. Way to ruin a moment, Quinn. But I felt too damn good to dwell on it, so I let it go.</p><p>We had enough time for a thirty minute run on the treadmills. I could have shown off again and done ten miles (maybe twelve if I went all out the whole time), but I set it at 10 mph and just ran the five. I think Quinn did the same, although he did fuck with the damn thing an awful lot.</p><p>“Babe. You wanna shower here or back at the room?”</p><p>I froze. “Room. And fuck off with that babe bullshit.”</p><p>He shrugged. “Fine with me.” And off we went. I went into the bathroom first, got a quick shower, brushed my teeth, and changed into a black cocktail dress. There was a sink and vanity just outside the bathroom door, which was absolutely perfect, so I did my make up and blow dried my hair while Quinn was getting cleaned up. I threw on a wrap over the dress for protection, and was ready to go.</p><p>“You look very nice.” Quinn said politely, and he meant it, too. I didn’t even have to read his mind to know it. There was no leering or staring, though, and I took the compliment and smiled. The longer we worked together on this mission, the more I thought that maybe I had misjudged Quinn. He had a pervy brain, but so did pretty much every red blooded male over the age of 13. And female, too, for that matter. He probably didn’t know his own strength and hadn’t realized how hard he’d been squeezing my hand. Lord knows I’ve done things like that myself. Also, I heal almost crazy fast, usually minutes or hours instead of days and weeks. So it isn’t like I was in any danger or anything. Even a fracture would have been better in a day or two, at most.</p><p>We went back down to the convention centre. The tables and coffee kiosks were gone, and the middle of the room was filled with rows of chairs, all facing a stage at the far end of the room. All of the vendor booths were empty, their wares packed up until the next afternoon. Soon, the keynote speech would start, almost everyone’s eyes would glaze over, and I could amuse myself with what people think about when they’re bored out of their skulls. Some people are very resourceful. That was after I looked for stragglers and people I hadn’t read yet, including the speaker and the person doing the introductions. Fortunately for me, I do a very excellent job of amusing myself. Especially if I have lots of minds to read.</p><p>The keynote speaker had started a small web clothing business and was now a millionaire several times over. It was a multi level marketing scheme, and her money all came from the sellers “downstream”, who would never see anywhere close to the kind of money she had made at the top of the pyramid. Nothing like a little corporate greed, sleight of hand, and getting rich off the backs of your bffs.</p><p>Apparently, I was still cynical.</p><p>And finally, the keynote speaker’s husband also had a business. He sold information to the highest bidder: SSNs, account and routing numbers, credit card numbers, the private phone numbers of every politician and lobbyist in DC and secret info and financial data on just about every multinational corporation. What information he didn’t sell, he used to blackmail the rich and famous, including sealed court documents, medical records, bad deals, payoffs, affairs, and financial information. His software was called Skyy Skraper, and it had made him a very rich man. </p><p>He also had several gig of Top Secret government files. And while he hadn't sold any yet, he was seriously thinking of it, if the price was right. </p><p>If I could get him to sit down and read every line of code, I could probably recreate it. But that wasn’t going to happen, of course. He didn’t just have it running on the laptop up in his hotel room, either; he had a bank of computers hooked up to a private server in his house, and all of the work was done from there. So, we needed a warrant. Which meant I needed to find something tangible that would give probable cause. And ‘Our telepath said he’s bad’ didn’t work in the real world, unfortunately. So, I searched his brain. He didn’t have any names or contact info for the people he dealt with; everything was done on the dark web, payments were made from untraceable account to untraceable account, and the exchanges of information were all done on yahoo and gmail accounts. He did, of course, have information on the people he blackmailed, but since all of the evidence was destroyed after the payoff was complete, it would take a miracle for one of them to speak up and incriminate him, knowing that their secrets would almost certainly get out, despite the NSA’s assurances. People talked.</p><p>Then I went back and read the wife again. She didn’t know much; even looking for scraper or crawler software in her brain hadn’t given me any hits the first time I checked, but I was much more thorough this time. The wife had hired a private detective and they both had a copy of a recording the PI took of the schmuck blackmailing a senator, who had secretly settled four sexual harassment cases for millions a piece. So far, two missions, and two politicians being blackmailed. DC. What a town!</p><p>It wasn’t great, but it was something. The NSA could work on them both to hand over the proof willingly, or they could search around for more ways to get a warrant. The wife could very well be on board; she was obviously looking for something by hiring a PI and, if we throw the husband in jail, she gets the keys to the coffers, unless it’s all tied up. And new dirty money like this? That was doubtful.</p><p>I nudged Quinn and nodded. He nodded back and grinned. He knew I’d tell him later.</p><p>I felt damn good. I had found the bad guy. I had key information about the scraper. I had found out a ton of information about how it worked, how he was using it to make money, and what he was able to find. I knew where it was located. I had even found a couple of weak links that could be used to take him down. Quinn and I were working great together. I was passing as a normal person who could co-own a successful business. I had eaten pancakes for breakfast, and out-lifted a motherfucking champion weretiger. I pulled up my shields and just basked in the feeling of accomplishment. I mean, I didn’t jump up and down. I didn’t even smile. Unless I was interacting with someone, I had been shielding my emotions from my face my whole life, even before I came to the NSA. But, by damn, I basked.</p><p>After surely the longest keynote speech ever, Quinn and I went back to the restaurant for supper. I ordered a club sandwich and onion rings, and ate every bite. I ordered chocolate cake for dessert, and ate that, too. It was heaven. Quinn ordered a bottle of wine to celebrate, and the government ID provided to me by the NSA said that I was 25, so I had a glass. We very quietly toasted to a job well done, and I promised Quinn I’d fill him in when we got back to the room after the dance. He did me one better by offering his arm, once again covered by his jacket, and we walked the streets of DC while I told him all I knew, and listened for eavesdroppers. We were completely alone. At one point he even picked me up and swung me around, but he promised he’d never do that again when he caught the look in my eye.</p><p>We headed back to the hotel, and went straight to the dance back on the second floor. We were each handed three drink tickets at the door, and I handed mine to Quinn. “At least have one, Babe. I’ll get you a gin and tonic. You’ll probably like that.”</p><p>Quinn came back with a drink for me and a beer for him. He must have been in celebration mode, as he slammed his back, and went straight back to the bar for two more. He was done with both of those before I finished my drink. I asked for a ginger ale, so he went back up and got that and another beer for himself. He just sipped that one, though.</p><p>The band was quite good and the dance floor was jam packed with bodies. Quinn said, “Hey, you wanna dance?” I had loved dancing when I was a little girl, but it wasn’t like the last decade was full of sock hops. I was in great shape, and I could move like nobody’s business, but I had no idea whether or not I could dance. I hesitated. “Come on. I’ll be careful not to touch. Let’s go! We can let off some steam. It’ll be fun!”</p><p>I waffled for a bit more, but then agreed. Probably the wine and the gin and tonic helped loosen me up a bit. As it turned out, I could dance! And so could Quinn. We grooved to the music, applauded the band between songs, and then grooved some more. Instead of getting more sober, though, I started feeling a little woozy. “I think I should sit down.”</p><p>The band started playing a slow song. One I remembered from my childhood. Daddy would sing it for me at bedtime, sometimes. Desperado, by the Eagles. “Come on. One slow song, and then we’ll take a break.” He wrapped his arms around my waist but, true to his word, there was no skin to skin contact. He was still in the tank top, and I didn’t want to touch his shoulders, so I gingerly placed my hands sort of on his pecs. He was very tall, so it worked out fine, if it wasn't a little awkward. I was still feeling a bit dizzy, but I had never had any alcohol before, so I felt like it shouldn’t have been a terrible surprise. </p><p>Quinn was looking at me very intently, and I lowered my shields for just a second, and wished I hadn’t. At least it was just how good I smelled and felt, over and over again, and nothing more creepy than that. Fortunately, the song was almost over, and I pulled away. “I’d like to go back to the room, please. You’re welcome to stay here, or come back…”</p><p>“Nah. It’s late.” He put on his jacket and offered me his arm and we took the elevator back to our floor and down the hall to our room. He said, “I’ll contact Beaumont and give an update. I’m sure she’ll want us to stay and look for anything else, but I know she’s going to be thrilled. You lie down and get some rest. You did some killer work, Babe. I’m proud of you. We make a hell of a team!”</p><p>I snuggled into the bed and closed my eyes. I was more exhausted than I had ever been. I didn't even scan the building. I could hear Quinn talking on the phone in the bathroom, but just the cadence of his speech and not the words themselves. The bed was spinning a little, but the words seemed to sooth me, and I quickly fell asleep.</p><p>The dreams woke me up. Only instead of dreams, they were still pictures and loud words. I could tell that I was naked, lying on my back, and there was a huge man on top of me again. Touching me everywhere so that all I could hear and see and feel were his thoughts and feelings and skin. Was it Uncle Bartlett? Mr Furnan? No. I could hear the loud words calling me Babe, telling me what he wants to do to me and how much I’ll love it. That one was always a lie. Quinn. I kept my eyes closed and stayed as still as I could. So slowly, I slid my right hand under my pillow. I felt the cold steel. It fit my hand like it was made for me. I put a confused, sleepy look on my face, and made a half asleep questioning sound. “Mmmm?”</p><p>“Sssh. It’s OK, Babe. I’m here, and I’m gonna make you feel so good.” He looked confused once again, but then it smoothed out and he reached down between his legs to grab his dick so he could rape me with it. He tucked his chin down so he could watch. In a very alert voice, I said, “Hey, Quinn?” He looked up quickly. My shields were all the way down, and he was shocked that I had been awake enough to make any noise at all. Apparently, he’d used enough GHB to put a horse to sleep. But those thoughts had a strange rubbed away look, and when I tried to find out where he got the drugs, it wasn't there. I plunged my throwing knife into his eye to the hilt.</p><p>I was promised safety in this room, for fuck’s sake. I was told an army would show up if anything were to happen. I yelled, “Hey! Dr Beaumont? Anyone? Quinn was going to rape me so I killed him. Hello?” The cavalry didn’t come. I squeezed out from under him. Quinn’s phone was password protected, and I hadn’t been listening to him at any point that he had woken it up, and it was too damn late to read his mind now. I didn’t have a cell phone, because I’m just the fucking telepath. Prisoner? Whatever. I could call the front desk and play phone tag after hours with the public NSA phone number. Or I could call a fucking cab.</p><p>A small voice in my head told me to run.</p><p>They would find me. They would find me and then they would kill me. They would say I killed Quinn to steal his money and get away. Fuck. </p><p>I put on clothes. So many clothes. I wore tights and jeans and a t-shirt and a sweater and a jacket. I grabbed Quinn's wallet and my purse and my clothes and laptop bags. I went downstairs. There are always cabs parked outside big hotels in the evenings, so I hopped in the back of one. "NSA Complex. Fort Meade. </p><p>"You want me to take you to Maryland?" I rolled my eyes, pulled a handful of bills out of Quinn's wallet and said, "I'm good for it." Jesus Christ, it was 30 miles, for fuck's sakes. Not to the fucking moon.</p><p>"You look like you had a shitty date."</p><p>"Yeah. You could say that."</p><p>"Your Dad work for the NSA?" Ouch.</p><p>"No. I really don't want to talk, OK?"</p><p>"OK."</p><p>I looked out the window and thought about my life. Earlier tonight, I was happier than I'd been in ten years. I felt accomplished. Now I was a scared little girl again. Now I was a killer again. </p><p>A few minutes later, he said, "Are you sure you're ok?"</p><p>I didn't answer.</p><p>The ride took almost an hour. The traffic was pretty shitty, even at this hour. Actually, I realized I had no idea what time it was at all.</p><p>"Hey. What time is it?"</p><p>"1030."</p><p>Jesus. I thought it was the middle of the night. I paid the cab driver and he told me good luck, and be careful, and to take care of myself. I walked to Building H and knocked on the door. I lifted my hand to wave through the glass at Maria-Star at the security desk. She looked very surprised. I knew Stan would be at the one on my floor. The only other floor with a security desk. Maria-Star escorted me upstairs. I said hello to Stan, walked down the hall, entered my room and went to bed. </p><p>It was at least an hour before all hell broke loose.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Meeting of the Minds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I could feel Dr Beaumont coming. Her void felt so cold that it woke me up. I knew it was her anger. But I was angry, too. As a matter of fact, I was mad as hell. </p><p>She burst through the door and her fangs were down. I guessed the vampire was out of the bag now. Or had they heard me talking to Belinda so brazenly about vampires? Did the laptop have a listening device as well as a keylogger? </p><p>I certainly hoped not. Because that would mean they had heard Quinn try to rape me, heard me kill him and call for help and did nothing. </p><p>I was standing beside the bed with my arms crossed and my jaw set by the time she got there. I didn't back down one bit.</p><p> "You killed Quinn, you stupid bitch. And just walked out and left him there. You expect me to clean up this mess? Or are you prepared to spend the rest of your life in jail?"</p><p>"Quinn roofied me, stripped me, and was naked on top of me in bed, attempting to rape me when I stabbed him. It was self defense. You promised me that you would be watching and listening and would keep me safe. You lied. And I have been in jail since I was eight years old." I would absolutely have more freedoms in prison. Better food, too.</p><p>I was also quite sure that someone had glamoured Quinn to rape me. The only vampire I knew was Beaumont. But why would she do that? Why would anyone? Was I that bad of a person that I deserved to be raped again?</p><p>And should I regret killing Quinn if he was forced to rape me? Did I? And was he?</p><p>"He was one of our top agents! He was…"</p><p>“He was raping me!”</p><p>Beaumont bared her fangs at me and hissed. I didn't back down one bit. "If I wasn't in jail, I could just rescind your invitation right now and you'd have to get the fuck out of my face. Ma'am."</p><p>"You will be disciplined tomorrow. Be expecting it." She turned and left my room. Thank god. It took everything I had to steady the shakes, but I would not show fear. I made myself sit cross-legged on the bed and meditated until I had myself fully calm and under control. </p><p>Very quickly, word started to spread through the building of a meeting, but the details were oddly vague. Tray came to my door. I invited him in. It was the first time he'd ever been in my room. </p><p>"I heard what happened."</p><p>I nodded. I wanted to tell him of my suspicions, but I would be overheard. Tray knew that too, right? I just said, “He was about to rape me.”</p><p>"I know. There's a meeting tonight. Soon.  It's about you. It's outside the complex, far enough away that you won’t be able to hear. Andy will be there. So will I." Andy was an analyst. A human, and a clear broadcaster. I had no idea how Tray knew I could do this, or even how he suspected. I decided that I didn’t really care. I found Andy’s brain down on the second floor and held on tight. But Tray wasn't done. "I likely won't see you again, Sookie. I just want you to know that you're a good person. None of this was your fault. We did you so wrong, and I'm sorry. From the bottom of my heart, I am." He put his hand along my cheek, almost cupping it, but without making any contact at all. He left the room. I guess he knew he'd be heard after all.</p><p>I laid down in bed and got under the covers. I pretended to sleep and just tagged along with Andy. I could see what he saw and hear what he heard. I could not share smells, tastes, or touches, and I could not have been more happy about that. Yuck. Imagine tasting what everyone in the building was tasting at the same time during lunch. Or feeling it when your brother jerked off. Double yuck! Believe me, seeing and hearing were bad enough!</p><p>Finally, Andy got in the elevator and went down to the parking garage under the building. I closed my eyes and focused hard on Andy's brain. I could not lose it. He got in his car and drove a few blocks away, to another nondescript government building. He parked underground and took the elevator to the ninth floor. He followed Noam and Tray and Calvin Norris, who is my other trainer, down the hall and into a conference room. They all sat around the table. </p><p>I hated only being able to see what Andy was looking at. He was not really an alpha kind of guy, and he would not look at people who intimidated him at all. Which was just about everyone who mattered. Most of what I was seeing were his hands clasped on the table. I was afraid to try hopping to another brain; this was way past my natural range, and I expected that my telepathy would snap back like a rubber band if I let go of Andy to reach for someone else. I closed my eyes, held tight to Andy, and then just pictured my hold growing and expanding to cover every brain in the room. It worked! I filtered out the weres and shifters and the half demon. And, of course, the vampire. </p><p>Hold the phone. Make that vampires. At the head of the table sat a huge one. He was incredibly striking with long blond hair and piercing blue eyes and a presence that just commanded attention. He leaned back in his chair with his fingertips steepled together. Dr Beaumont closed the door, and then sat at the opposite end. I knew everyone at the table except the tall blond vampire. They were all part of Project Sartori, and I had known most of them since I had arrived here in Fort Meade.</p><p>Beaumont started. "Quinn and the asset discovered information about the scraper.” Ah yes. Quinn, the noted telepath. Surely he deserves top billing in the finding things out department. “However, Sookie went crazy and killed Quinn. This is the second agent she's murdered. She nearly beat her last handler, Alcide Herveaux, to death before he quit. He lasted one mission, that Sookie completely blew. She also dismembered her trainer, Patrick Furnan, a few years ago. She is dangerous and cannot be controlled."</p><p>I just let the images and sounds run over me. My brain processed them and combined them to build a coherent image that provided multiple perspectives. I didn't change expression, or physically react at all. All of my consciousness was a couple of miles away, and I didn't know if I'd be able to move my physical self if I tried. Not without losing my grip. </p><p>The blond vampire said, "What do you recommend?"</p><p>"I don't know. As I said, she's extremely dangerous. We could keep her underground and just use her for in-house interrogations. We could sell her to another agency, or to one of our allies. I’m sure the CIA or the AVL would be interested. Or we could just cut our losses."</p><p>“Dr Beaumont, you are the one who discovered her. I am sure that you are aware that telepaths do not grow on trees.”</p><p>“She’s unstable. Maybe there’s something about the telepathy that makes her unsuitable. Or perhaps that much vampire blood in a growing child or during puberty could have caused her to become violent and unpredictable. Her brain scans are completely unique, so there’s nothing to compare them to. There’s really no way to know.”</p><p>"Does anyone else have anything to say?"</p><p>Andy actually spoke up first. “She creeps me out.”</p><p>Calvin was next, “She has been continuing to get stronger. Also, I think she is able to do things that we aren’t even aware of. I think we can mostly control her for now, but who knows how long that will last? Even three on one, we can barely best her in hand to hand combat now. And only if she’s bare and we overload her thoughts with contact.”</p><p>“Being so sensitive to touch is a large weakness that can be exploited. Can she not be broken of it? What is the cause of the problem?”</p><p>Beaumont replied, “Touch amplifies the volume of her telepathy, and she is unable to shield herself from the thoughts. We also used forced touch and very unpleasant thoughts as a form of punishment in the beginning for quite some time. It may have been ill advised. And there were some other… incidents… that may have contributed to the problem. We have tried exposure therapy, but it did nothing but make it worse. She reacted more strongly to that than waterboarding or electrocution.”</p><p>“Anything else anyone wants to add?”</p><p>Noam said, "You know how I feel. She flies off the handle too easily. She's willful and angry, but she's also amazingly gifted. I just think she needs more discipline. Maybe if we remove a few of her comforts and freedoms, and use more physical force, she will fall in line. We need to break her.”</p><p>Tray stood up so fast his chair skittered out behind him. "You sorry bunch of jackasses. You stole a little girl out of her life, locked her in a room by herself, deprived her of any love or affection or tenderness or anything except basic necessities and work and pain, and gave a registered pedophile carte blanche to use that neglect to his advantage. You want to beat her more and give her less? She’s been beaten and tortured regularly for years. She has nothing for you to take away. And you can’t make someone act more normal by removing what little normalcy they have, anyway.</p><p>"Her first mission was a success. Not only did she find out the information you asked her to find, she also identified three terrorists, and you used that information to stop a terror attack. Yes, her methods were unorthodox, and she blew cover. But that’s because we set her up for failure. We didn’t give her the training or tools or ability to do it right. Then she went and crushed her second mission, too. Not only did she find out who owns the web scraper, she gave you a location and several leads to find probable cause for a warrant.</p><p>"And the only reason she beat Alcide as badly as she did is because he was so humiliated by being beaten by a human girl that he refused to give up. If Sookie hadn’t ended the fight the way she did, he was going to shift and someone was going to get seriously hurt or dead. And he was hardly beaten half to death; he had a broken nose and a concussion. She was wearing boxing gloves, and he refused the headgear. I was there.  </p><p>"You told her to act naturally, and sent her out on a date to a restaurant. Has she ever been on a date? Has she been to a restaurant since she was a small child? You sent her to the convention and expected her to pretend to be the tiger's wife. She had barely met the man. Everyone knows he’s a scumbag, and you just expected her to trust him and depend on him and listen to him and sleep in the same room with him, knowing her history? Knowing his? She hadn't even seen a married couple interact since she was 8 years old. She doesn't even have a television to watch how people are supposed to behave! You expected her to just pick up all of this information on how to be a normal free married human by osmosis? Just by reading a few minds, you expected her to just be able to fit in and figure it all out? And you paired her with male fucking weres with huge egos and short fuses and monster sex drives and pack mentalites, whose thoughts she can read? You didn’t even prepare them to help her! You introduced them once and let them go. </p><p>"You talk about how she murdered Furnan in cold blood. He groomed her and then raped her right under your noses. You knew he was a child molester. It was common knowledge. He had a conviction! He came to you with some sob story about how she deserved privacy in the showers, and you listened and removed the cameras and left her alone with him in there every day for years. Finally she bit his dick off when he shoved it in her mouth one too many times. She was twelve years old! She shoved it down his throat and punched him in the larynx and he choked to death on his own cock. She deserves the nobel prize for poetry. It couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy! I wish she’d done the same to the rest of you fuckers. She was a lonely child who craved affection, and the only kind she got was from that piece of filth. And now she can’t even stand to be touched at all. No fucking wonder. Listening to a monster’s thoughts full volume as he raped her every day between beatings must have been a real treat. You cocksuckers are lucky I wasn’t hired until after he was dead.</p><p>"You assholes have already broken her. Every single fucking one of you is responsible. Hell, I’m responsible, too. But I’m not the one looking to just throw the broken trash away. She’s not just a human, she’s fucking extraordinary, and she deserves a hell of a lot better than to be sold to the highest bidder, or get a bullet in the brain and an unmarked grave, or to be chained up in a basement somewhere until you need her for something. Fuck the whole lot of you.”</p><p>Holy shit. I felt wetness on my face and realized that I was crying. For the first year or so I was here, it seemed like I cried all the time, although even then it was only on the worst nights, after lights out. But I don’t think I’d cried once since I’d turned ten or so. It was just futile, and made some trainers angry, and others excited. Neither of which ever worked out in my favour. </p><p>I really understood now why Tray had said a final goodbye. Being so candid in my room was the least of it. Part of me wanted to let my mind snap back to me and not see what happened next. But Tray deserved my witness, and I needed to see what else happened for my own sake. Tray stormed toward the door, but we both knew that was right beside Beaumont. To my surprise, she let him leave. I let out the breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. I guess I could move after all.</p><p>The blond vampire was still looking at the door Tray had just left through. He turned to Dr Beaumont. “Is what he says true?”</p><p>Beaumont’s face was a mask of hatred and anger, her fangs bared and gleaming. Begrudgingly, she snapped, “Yes.”</p><p>“All of it?”</p><p>“Yes, but...”</p><p>He raised one eyebrow. She didn’t finish.</p><p>I don’t think he’d moved a muscle below the neck throughout the whole meeting.</p><p>Finally, he flicked his fingers in a go away gesture. “Everyone except Beaumont. Leave.”</p><p>Nobody dared argue. All of the non-vampires filed out. I stayed with them in the elevator, but nobody said a word. Finally, I let them go and came back to myself.</p><p>I felt that I was going into overload again. It was happening more and more often. I centred myself. Breathed. I lowered my heart rate and respirations. It was a type of self-hypnosis, really. For the first time, I wondered if I could hypnotize others. If I could use what I learned from other people’s brains to unlock functions of my own, could I do the reverse, and use what I knew about my mind to unlock things in other people’s?</p><p>It was very late now, and the building was almost empty. Nobody came back here after the meeting, and I didn’t blame them. I had some answers, but even more questions, and they all just swirled around in my head. Vampire blood in the protein shakes made me strong and fast, and possibly insane. Beaumont seemed to loathe me now, and, as far as I knew, it came from nowhere. Did she glamour Quinn? Why? And, if not, who did? Was Quinn in control, or did I kill an innocent? Should I have been more astute? I didn’t even get Quinn’s cell phone password. It was a mistake I wouldn’t make again, but, really, what would it have changed? What was going to happen to Tray? And how about me? Strangely enough, I found that I did not want to die, no matter how shitty my life was. How much worse could it get? I was guessing the answer was a lot. What was the AVL, and how had I never heard about them before now?</p><p>Why the fuck didn’t I run when I had the chance?</p><p>I saw the void before it hit the front door downstairs. I followed it through the lobby, up the elevator, and down the hall to my door. I wondered if this was going to be it. Strangely, nobody had taken my remaining knives yet, but they weren’t much use against a vampire.  I sat on the side of the bed facing the door and held one, just for comfort. I wouldn’t make it easy for her, at the very least.</p><p>But it wasn’t Beaumont. The blond vampire filled the whole doorway. He just stood there for a moment, staring at me with eyes that almost seemed to glow. His nostrils flared, but he made no other movement. And then he said, “My name is Eric Northman. I am your new handler. Come with me.” </p><p>As far as I knew, Beaumont was the head honcho around here, and she obviously answered to Northman. The boss’s boss was certainly not a handler. Was he really going to be mine, or was he hoping to trick me into walking to my own execution? “Where are we going?”</p><p>“Be quiet and do as you’re told.”</p><p>It had been one hell of a night. I was exhausted and I was scared, but the NSA had taught me very well to channel my fear into anger, and also that the element of surprise can make the difference between life and death. Plus I was just naturally mouthy. “Oh, I don’t do much of that. Haven’t you heard? I’m willful and angry. I’m dangerous. I fly off the handle too easily.” I leaned forward conspiratorially. “ Some even say that much vampire blood in a growing child or during puberty could have caused me to become violent and unpredictable. It’s really too bad that telepaths don’t grow on trees.”</p><p>His eyes widened when he realized what I’d said, and where and when and how I must have heard it. Then he actually laughed out loud. </p><p>“Come, telepath. It’s time for the next part of your training.”</p><p>“How to improve morale by being eaten?”</p><p> “No. How to live in the real world.”</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Interlude #1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>All interludes are from Eric's POV. :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I had been aware of the telepath from the beginning. As a matter of fact, I was still the Sheriff of Area Five at the time she was procured. I had actually been called in to alert the family that she and her parents had been killed, due to the proximity of Bon Temps to Shreveport, as a favour to Isabel Beaumont. Sometimes, in situations such as those, glamouring becomes necessary to smooth over any problems.</p><p>The top levels of the US government have been aware of the existence of vampires since before there was one, during the American Revolution. A reciprocal relationship between the human and vampire governments has proved hugely mutually beneficial. As Sheriff, I had often cooperated with local law enforcement, and it had segued into a career at the NSA, which protected vampire interests and security as well as humans'. </p><p>I had followed the gossip and rumours around the program, both about how amazingly gifted she was, and how extraordinarily difficult. There were some  in the agency who honestly thought that she was a harbinger of death and destruction after she killed her trainer. It was superstitious nonsense.</p><p>As the girl's eighteenth birthday approached, I was invited to help deploy the asset. Dr Beaumont would continue to oversee day to day operations, but I was to become Project Leader. My previous assignment went all to hell in the last week, and I was delayed in making the move to Maryland and my new mission.</p><p>Well, I had thought my last assignment had gone to hell. The clusterfuck we were now in surpassed it by orders of magnitude. There was a dead 250 pound weretiger with a knife sticking out of his eye on the seventeenth floor of a packed hotel in the heart of DC. He had been stabbed by a lethal and potentially insane trained killer, seemingly with super powers, who looked like the girl next door. And now I had to go in and clean it up. </p><p>I had read part of the Project Sartori file on the plane, but still had some catching up to do. It would have to wait. I called the meeting for right after my arrival, and in a location outside the NSA complex to keep prying telepaths out.</p><p>From all accounts, the asset was incredible. She had scored 147 on the WISC-V Isabel had administered the night her parents brought her to us. At 15, her score was 195. It shouldn't be possible, but there it was. She seemed to keep expanding not only her abilities, but her potential. She soaked up information like a sponge. Nobody was really sure what she couldn't do; she seemed to eventually accomplish everything she set out to. She was also a physical powerhouse - incredibly strong, fast, and tough.</p><p>She was also notoriously difficult. It wasn't that she refused to work; she was incredibly driven. But she was also impulsive, impetuous, angry, sarcastic, mouthy, and prone to violent outbursts. She had injured many and killed one of her trainers when she was just twelve. And not accidentally. She refused to accept any mistakes in herself or anyone else, and she was very quick to punish any of her instructors who failed to live up to her very high expectations.</p><p>I settled into the chair in the conference room and read some more of the file while I waited for my new team to arrive. </p><p>Soon enough, they were all filing in. Isabel closed the door and we got started. She filled me in on the circumstances of the past few days. The rollout was more disastrous than we could have predicted. Covering up the fiasco in the restaurant, and having to find a new handler on short notice were bad enough. But killing Quinn? My gods. I heard that others on the team had problems with her as well. It was possible that we would eventually have to put her down, but hopefully we would be able to get some use out of her first.</p><p>But then one of her trainers, a Were, stood and pointed out that Isabel had set the asset up for failure, on multiple fronts. She was not properly educated or socialized, and she was not provided with trustworthy handlers or instructors. Isabel was ready to give up at the first sign of trouble. In fact, she seemed adamant that we should rid ourselves of the problem sooner than later. It seemed a strange pivot for her; she had always been the project's biggest cheerleader. The telepath was far too valuable to give up that easily. </p><p>I released everyone from the meeting but Isabel. "This is on you. Every single bit of it. She was not properly prepared."</p><p>"Bullshit. She is impossible. She is colder than you are, and is nothing but anger and insolence."</p><p>"I am not throwing away ten years of work on a job you half assed. I will complete her training myself."</p><p>Isabel threw back her head and laughed. "Oh, Eric! I can't wait to see this. You are going to have a full audience every single day. There will be wagers on how long until one of you kills the other. The unstoppable force and the immovable object, right here in the flesh!"</p><p>"No. We won't have an audience, because we won't be there. Keeping her locked up is part of the problem. She needs to learn how to behave like a human."</p><p>"And you, the vampire who hasn't been human for a thousand years, are going to be the one to teach her how?"</p><p>"While she is completing her training, she will continue to accept missions with me as her handler. As she cannot read my mind, touch should not be an issue. This should eliminate one of her triggers. I will also be able to overpower her, if necessary. We will only be able to work after dark, but I'm sure we can work around our limitations. </p><p>"And she does not need me to teach her how to be a human, but she does need to learn to live among society and experience things outside of the NSA facility."</p><p>Isabel was treating this like a friendly conversation between peers. Nothing could be further from the truth. "Isabel, you fucked this whole thing up. You did. You had better thank whatever gods you believe in for the bureaucracy of the US Government, because if this were purely vampire business, you would be chained in silver right now, at minimum."</p><p>"Eric, I…"</p><p>"Shut up and get out of here. Deal with your mess at the hotel. Glamour who you need to, wipe off any prints, delete any records of their stay, their attendance at the convention, and any security footage, and dispose of the body. You will be written up." Somehow, a written warning is not much of a deterrent for vampires. </p><p>Isabel left and I drove my NSA-issued sedan back to the complex and found Building H. I went to meet the asset for the first time. </p><p>When I opened her door, the sweet smell enveloped me. I wasn't hit like a ton of bricks, I was caressed. Under the sweetness, I smelled tears. It was a surprise; legend had it that she never ever cried, not even after withstanding hours of torture. </p><p>I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't this. She seemed so small. She had been sitting on the side of her bed waiting for me when I had walked in, but she also looked surprised to see me. She held a throwing knife as if she was prepared to use it if necessary. Despite that, she looked more like a child than a woman sitting there.  I said, "My name is Eric Northman. I am your new handler. Come with me.” </p><p>Instead of complying, she relaxed and asked where we were going.</p><p>"Be quiet and do what you're told."</p><p>She still didn't listen. Her eyes suddenly twinkled with good humour. She let me know that, despite making all of the attendees follow a car to an undisclosed location well outside of her known range, she had still somehow heard the meeting. She surprised a laugh out of me. </p><p>And then she nearly made me laugh again when she made a joke about me eating her. Apparently, she was well aware of what I was, despite the fact that Isabel had been very careful to shield the knowledge of vampires from her. All of the people in the complex who knew of the existence of vampires were supposed to have been glamoured not to reveal that information, even from their thoughts. </p><p>Becoming her handler had been a spur of the moment decision, but following my instincts had kept me alive for over 1000 years. They were also telling me to remove her from the facility immediately. Something about Isabel's adamance had triggered a vague feeling of unease about her reliability and trustworthiness. They were also telling me to tread carefully.</p><p>"Pack up your things. We must go.".</p><p>She shrugged. "I still have the bag from the hotel with my clothes in it. Nobody has taken it away yet. I don't have anything else."</p><p>"Very well. We will stop for some human items on the way to my safe house." </p><p>I scanned my badge on the sensor at the door, and thought about what the Were had said. The asset needed to be able to integrate into society to be used to her full potential. Her seclusion during her training had been necessary, but the time had come to finish her education and shape her into the perfect spy.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Turn The Page</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I followed the vampire out of my room and into the elevator, nodding at Stan on the way past the security desk. My new handler pushed the button for the parking garage. I guessed that he was definitely not a pickup truck kind of guy. Something with power and speed and class... Sports car? Muscle car? Maybe a luxury sedan, like a Cadillac or a Lincoln? He could certainly use the leg room. No, I was thinking sports car, despite his height. Something flashy and fast, with a lot of horsepower. Black, or maybe red.</p><p>We got out of the elevator and he led me to a Crown Vic. What a disappointment! Pickup trucks and Crown Victorias. It’s like these agency guys only came in two flavours. I threw my bag in the back seat and climbed in the front.</p><p>I don't know why I suddenly trusted him, but I found that I did. Not completely; I wasn't an idiot. But I was certain he wasn't taking me out to dispose of me. I had seen the belief in his eyes when he had listened to Tray, and the distrust for Beaumont when he listened to her. And I wanted to be as far from her as I could get. </p><p>It was late, nearly 4 AM, and there was very little traffic on the road. Neither of us spoke. After a few minutes, he cracked all of the windows. It was neither particularly hot nor cold, and I found it odd that vampires were so sensitive to temperature. But the breeze didn’t bother me, so whatever.</p><p>“So, what do I call you, anyway? Northman? Mr. Northman? Special Agent Northman? Master?”</p><p>That last one was possibly dripping with sarcasm.</p><p>He looked over at me and smirked. “Eric is fine.” He fidgeted around in his seat a little, like he couldn’t get comfortable. I really wouldn’t have expected vampires to be such a sensitive bunch. Or maybe it was just him, since I had never seen Beaumont as much as twitch in the ten years I’d known her.</p><p>I leaned my head against the cool window and just watched the lights pass by. I didn’t have to work hard to hold up my shields, but it was still a relief to be able to relax them completely. Eric’s mind, like Dr Beaumont’s, was completely silent. I caught the occasional snippet of thought from the few cars we passed on the highway (and if there was a car in front of us, we passed it. This guy drove like a bat out of hell. Did vampires turn into bats? Hell, maybe this guy was where that saying came from), but it was no more distracting than the purr of the engine or the hum of the tires on the road. I felt quite numb. I wished I could just escape into the oblivion of sleep.</p><p>I had killed a man today. Again. I had killed another man today. I had spent more than half of my life being trained how to kill in hundreds of different ways, but it didn’t make the reality any easier.</p><p>I thought about the meeting. There had been little new information there for me; I knew exactly how Noam and Calvin and Andy felt about me. It wasn’t like they could hide it. Dr Beaumont had been a surprise, though. She had always been ice cold. The consummate professional.  No emotion. Ever. And had she always hated me that much?</p><p>And then there was the bombshell. The bit of new information that had rattled me most of all. And, coincidentally, I was sitting right next to someone who was an expert on the matter. I rarely got answers, but it never hurt to ask. Well, that was bullshit; I had been hurt plenty of times for asking questions. But it rarely stopped me from asking them, and sometimes it paid off.</p><p> “What are the effects of vampire blood?”</p><p>He glanced over at me. “It can heal wounds and some ailments. It increases strength and speed and heightens senses. It increases libido. If a person takes the blood directly from a vampire, it causes a blood tie. The vampire can sense the emotions of the human and be able to locate them if they are nearby. It makes the vampire more desirable to them. The more blood the vampire gives the human, the stronger the tie becomes. If the human and vampire exchange blood three times, it will form a blood bond. This is permanent, and allows the human to also feel the emotions of the vampire, and sense when they are near. It also enables the vampire to have control over the human, and he will be able to locate and feel them over large distances. If a vampire drains the human and replaces the blood with his own, the person will die and will rise Vampire in three nights. The new vampire must do as his maker commands.</p><p>“Do the effects of the blood wear off?”</p><p>“Yes. Depending on the amount of blood in a human’s system, the effects wear off completely in weeks or months. When it is gone, the tie is broken.”</p><p>He was being amazingly upfront and  communicative. “So, if I stopped taking it, eventually I would be only as strong and fast as any other human my size?”</p><p>“Honestly, we do not know what would happen. Obviously there have been no scientific studies on the long-term effects of vampire blood given as often and in such quantities to humans over such an extended period of time, especially throughout puberty. From the testing we’ve done, we know that it has made fundamental permanent changes throughout your body. All systems were affected and made stronger. It is possible, although not likely, that you would remain as strong as you are now. It is more possible that you would be stronger and faster than the average human, but much less so than you are now. </p><p>"It is likely that you would weaken as the blood waned in your system and eventually die, your own blood not able to sustain the body the vampire blood helped to grow.”</p><p>The rage was back, bubbling just under the impassive surface. I was trapped, even more than I had known. Even worse, I was dependent. And a human medical experiment. The US government had pulled a Mengele on me.</p><p>But, after a moment, the rage just drained away. I was so tired. My situation sucked, but I was in the same position before I knew what it was, and now at least I had some answers. More than that, I was going to be a bird in a gilded case. It wasn't ideal, but it beat the hell out of being a bird in a shoebox with pencil holes poked in the top. </p><p>He took the next exit, and we pulled into the parking lot of a 24 hour WalMart.</p><p>“So I don't have a blood tie with a vampire?”</p><p>“No, the blood is removed from the vampire several days before consumption, so no blood tie is formed. Come. We must buy a few things for your human needs. It will be dawn soon.”</p><p>I scanned the parking lot and got out. I followed him into the store. My my my. This vampire had what was almost certainly the world's greatest ass. He wore jeans that just hugged his buns, and a blue V necked t-shirt. Very casual for the NSA, but the authority radiated off him. You would never mistake him for a flunky.</p><p>Despite my appreciation for a fine behind, I wondered about increased libido as a side effect of vampire blood. I had not had any sexual experiences where I was a willing participant, and I hadn't really wanted any. I thought about sex a lot, but only because I "overheard" when everyone else did. And oversaw. It did absolutely nothing for me. As a matter of fact, I was basically anti-sex at this point. And that was even before factoring in my aversion to touch. I enjoyed looking at a beautiful man (and Eric Northman was as gorgeous as they came), but maybe I just didn't have any libido to increase. Anything multiplied by zero is zero, right?</p><p>I did a quick scan of everyone in the store as we went in. We got the necessities - food (cereal, milk, bread, eggs, bacon, peanut butter, bananas, butter, cake), toiletries, and toilet paper - and were back in the car and on the highway in fifteen minutes. Less than ten minutes later, we were pulling into the driveway in front of a huge brick colonial. He opened the garage and pulled in next to a… red corvette. Ha! Score.</p><p>"What is funny?"</p><p>I had barely smirked. "I had you pegged as a sports car guy."</p><p>"This car belongs to the Agency. The Corvette is mine."</p><p>I grabbed my bag out of the back while he got the groceries from the trunk. He led me through the door and into the kitchen, and put everything away. His kitchen was stocked with dishes, utensils, and even cookware. I had never cooked a meal, of course, but I was looking forward to trying. I had certainly helped myself to lots of people's recipes and cooking how-tos.</p><p>He showed me around - the living room, the library, the bedroom and attached bath that would be mine. It was a beautiful home, so much larger and more opulent than any I could ever remember being in. I set my bag down on the bed. </p><p>"Dawn is very soon, so I will need to retire to my sleeping chamber. Come, and I will show you a few things first." He showed me how to use the entertainment centre in the living room. He showed me the pool and jacuzzi in the back yard, and where the towels were located. </p><p>He gave me the alarm code for the front door. </p><p>Normally a master of control, my shock was all over my face. "I'm free to go?"</p><p>"Of course. You need to be able to integrate into society. Soon, I will teach you how to drive, and you will be able to come and go as you please during the day. Can't you be trusted to behave yourself?"</p><p>"Of course. You aren't worried I'll run?"</p><p>"No." He gave a wry grin. "You have been implanted with a GPS microchip. There is no place you could run where the NSA couldn't find you."</p><p>Why was I not surprised? I was pissed, of course, but honestly? I had never had as much freedom as I seemed to have right then. I could choose what to eat and when. I could take a walk around the block. I could go for a swim, read a new book, watch tv… I tried to hold on to the thread of suspicion while pushing the swelling feeling of gratitude down. I could not afford to soften. </p><p>I kept my composure. Polite. Professional. Completely sincere. "Thank you, Eric."</p><p>"Do you have any questions before I go to my day rest?"</p><p>I had a bunch, but most would keep. Only one was truly pressing. "Will anything happen to Tray?"</p><p>"Dr Beaumont will write him up for insubordination, I'm sure. I will write a commendation. I outrank her. Your training at the facility is complete, and he will be reassigned, but I assure you that he will remain unharmed and employed.</p><p>"I left a piece of paper and pen on the island in the kitchen. Write down anything that you would like for me to get, including a full supply of groceries. I will look after it when I rise."</p><p>I hated that I had to ask, but dying would kind of suck. "The vampire blood?"</p><p>"Will be arriving with my day man tomorrow. Try to get some rest. I will see you at sunset."</p><p>He disappeared through a door off the hall. I was absolutely exhausted. It didn't seem possible that the delicious room service breakfast in the hotel room with Quinn was only 21 hours ago. That reminded me that I was hungry, but I was too tired to chew. </p><p>I went to my new room, undressed, and climbed into bed. I scanned the building, and there was nobody else but the void directly below me. I stretched my sense out, and the neighbours were far enough away that their thoughts were barely a mutter unless I focused. </p><p>The bed was so comfortable. The quilt was a rich warm brown, and the sheets were taupe and buttery soft. I snuggled down into the pillow, and the familiar scent of the laundry detergent and fabric softener my Mama used to use filled my senses. After a decade of nothing but white scratchy scentless linens from an industrial laundry, this sudden touch of home brought me to tears for the second time that night. </p><p>I cried like I hadn't in longer than I could recall. I had mostly given up on crying long before my whole life changed when I was eight. If I'd cried every time there was something to cry about, I never would have stopped. But that night I cried for my lost family. I cried for Tray. I cried for Quinn, and for the guilt I had over his death, and for the anger I felt at my guilt. I cried in loneliness. I cried in rage and sorrow and grief and self-pity. I cried in thankfulness and hope. And when that scared the shit out of me, I cried some more. And eventually, finally, I cried myself to sleep.</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Night Shift</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>These past couple of days had played hell on my system. I had been institutionalized for most of my life, with a strict nine PM lights out, and I was almost always awake before the five-thirty AM lights on. Other than a brief period of drug-induced sedation, I hadn't fallen asleep until well past dawn. When I woke, the quality of light and unfamiliar surroundings made me feel unmoored, and I was instantly on high alert. But then I remembered where I was and why, and I came back to myself. I scanned the house. Still just the void below me. Stretching out further, we were a quarter of a mile from the nearest person in any direction. I relaxed and stretched my body this time, enjoying the feel of the soft sheets on my skin. </p><p>For the next few hours, I was essentially alone and essentially free. Unfortunately, I had squandered most of the day asleep in bed, but I was going to enjoy the luxury of relative privacy and freedom to the hilt. </p><p>I was used to being lonely, but I was never truly alone. I had never had any semblance of privacy. I guessed that I had none now. Not really. I was sure the vampire had security cameras all over the place. But now I, at least, had control of the lock on the bedroom door. Sure, any vampire could break in with ease. But now I could just walk out. Plus, it was daytime, and vampires were all asleep. Or dead. Or whatever.</p><p>It was the second week of July and late afternoon. I went to the kitchen, and the blood shakes were already in the fridge. I powered one down, and then had a banana and chugged some milk right from the carton. Hey, it isn't like I had to worry about sharing it with the vampire. It was a beautiful clear day, so I decided to grab a book out of the library and a towel and I headed out by the pool. I didn't have a bathing suit, but the yard was fenced and my handler was asleep. Any modesty I might have once held was long gone after ten years of constant surveillance. I kept myself covered one on one for my own protection, not because of shame or modesty. I knew what men could do when they had you naked and alone. When they were bigger and stronger or had power over you. A hell of a lot better than I wanted to. But getting caught on camera? Who gave a fuck? Almost every time I had bathed or changed my clothes or used the bathroom in the past decade was already on film. Not to mention how many times I'd been photographed to document my body's changes over the years. Monthly photos and scans of every single bit of me, inside and out.</p><p>I set the book and towel down on a chaise lounge and stripped off my clothes. I closed my eyes and turned my face up to the sun, just drinking it in. It had been so long since I had been alone with nothing but my own thoughts and the sunshine. I was filled with an amazing feeling of peace and well-being. No matter what else happened, I had this. It felt like a battery I didn't know I'd drained was recharging. I walked over to the pool and dived in. It was a salt water system, and the perfect temperature. I did laps, pushing my body just because it felt good. I was a bit of an endorphin junkie after so many years. Also, I had to admit that the protein shakes had always made me feel amazing and full of energy, as terrible as they tasted. I made a mental note to ask Eric if going from three shakes a day to one was going to cause any problems. </p><p>As I swam, I thought about my new handler. He was incredibly good looking, but Alcide and Quinn had been as well. But the weres had been everyday hot. Eric was something special, and it wasn't just the vampire glow. </p><p>So far, he seemed like a straight shooter. I couldn't read vampires like I could everyone else (except demons. I just get white noise from demon brains), but my gut said that he had told me the truth last night. I wasn't used to relying on my instincts, and I much preferred the certainty of just picking what I needed to know right out of people's heads.</p><p>And then it occurred to me; I was going to have to put all of my trust in this guy, flying blind. I was going to have to get to know him the old fashioned way. That was terrifying when it was Beaumont, but I only saw her once in a while, and always with the buffer of other people around. It was just going to be me and Eric. </p><p>Shit. There went my relaxing afternoon. I pulled myself out of the pool and quickly dried off. I threw my clothes back on and went into the kitchen. The knives were in a knife block on the island. I grabbed a very sharp and sturdy paring knife and went back outside and checked my options. The landscaping was minimalistic, with a large concrete patio taking up the pool and jacuzzi area near the house, and only a small copse of trees in the far corner by the wooden fence. The rest was creeping thyme and gravel walkways and beds of well-established perennials. Super low maintenance. </p><p>I went over to a small cherry tree and broke off a branch as straight as I could find, about an inch and a half in diameter. I broke it down until I had two good straight clean 5" lengths, and sharpened one end of each with the knife until they looked like fat pencils with no lead. Ironic that I couldn't have done it without the vampire blood. Not without a whole lot of time and effort, at least. I didn't hide from the cameras; this was all defense, and I wanted him to know I was prepared to defend myself. I had no intentions of hurting anyone unless I was in danger. I wished for sandpaper, but the stakes would do as is, and should fit in my garter holster.</p><p>That done, I decided to do the only thing I'd been asked to, and went to the kitchen to make my list. I grabbed the milk, a Pepperidge Farms Coconut Cake, and a fork, and sat at the island with the sheet of paper and pen. I had never made a grocery list before, but I pulled up my mental recipe box I had gleaned from many different brains over the years, and wrote down the ingredients for a few things that sounded quick, tasty, and straightforward. I also added two bathing suits, as well as a cell phone and laptop. Might as well go all out. Didn't hurt to ask, right? </p><p>After that, I was stumped. I was sure there were basic things I was overlooking, but this kind of autonomy was all new to me. But then I added, "Answers:<br/>
Am I an employee or a captive? Pay?<br/>
Will drinking vampire blood once a day instead of three times hurt me?"<br/>
I also wanted to know more about glamouring. I wondered if I should tell Eric about the rubbed away spots in Quinn's mind, and my suspicions that he had been at least assisted in his attempted rape, if not completely puppeted into it. I knew from his thoughts that Quinn had wanted me very much. I also knew that he was completely into raping me. My lack of consent excited him a lot. But would that have just been a dormant kink that would have hurt nobody if he hadn't been glamoured to rape me? Or had he been glamoured specifically to enjoy it? He had definitely been glamoured to drug me, or at least to forget who had given him those drugs. And I suspected that he had been made to rape me. Whether he was enjoying himself or not, if he was forced to do it, he was a victim of rape as well, wasn't he? Or would have been if I hadn't killed him first?</p><p>Guilt over Quinn and anxiety over flying blind with Eric consumed me again. It pleased me very much that everyone thought I was cold as ice. They really did; I heard it in their heads all the time. They thought I had no emotions at all. Well, except anger, impatience, and grim satisfaction. I certainly had those in spades, but I felt everything very acutely. I just beat it into submission, got a stranglehold on it, and shoved it into a corner. Never let them see you sweat, and all that shit. I felt, intensely, but I refused to let it show.</p><p>And that's why I was so concerned about a blood tie, and was so relieved when Eric said that I didn't have one. I certainly did not want anyone to know what I was feeling, before we even got into being able to control me. First off, I'm the one that knows how other people feel, not the other way around. Secondly, I have control over very few things in my life. I hoard what control I have very jealously.</p><p>I had eaten almost the whole cake. Whoops. Oh well. No regrets. I put the rest back in the freezer, washed the fork, put the milk back in the fridge, and went back outside. The sun was low in the sky, and my handler would be rising soon. My stomach tightened with nervousness, trepidation, and… anticipation? Hmmm. Put a pin in that, Sookie. Think about it later. I put the book and towel away and decided to get a shower. Time to get ready for my first day on the night shift. </p><p>I was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, and just putting my damp hair up in a ponytail, when he knocked. "Come in."</p><p>He opened the door. "I thought tonight we would just hang around here. We can get to know each other a little. I will answer the questions you wrote down, and any others you might have. And then later we can do some training. I have no need for exercise equipment as vampire muscles never atrophy - well, unless we are drained or silvered - but I do have a dojo and an assortment of weapons. I can put you through your paces. I will get what you need soon."</p><p>I shrugged and followed him out to the living room. I sat on the couch and he sat across from me on a leather club chair. The furniture was tasteful and masculine and looked expensive. It was also oversized, and he relaxed into the cushions, studying me.</p><p>"Part of your training is going to involve lessening your sensitivity to touch." I glared at him. "My mind is a blank to you. It should make touch much less unpleasant. Also, I never have sweaty palms." He grinned. I'm sure he could charm the birds from the trees if he didn't scare them to death in the process. </p><p>"Quinn was one thrust away from rape in the first degree last night. I'm sorry if I'm a little standoffish." We both knew I wasn't sorry, particularly. </p><p>"I will never behave in an inappropriate way. I give you my word. We can get some of the contact in through sparring or grappling. We will often go undercover as a married or dating couple, and that will provide opportunities for exposure. I assure you that I'm an excellent dancer." The grin again. My stomach did a flip flop. I scowled. He continued, "And I will use casual touch throughout the evenings to acclimate you. But, again. I'm not going to maul you. We're going to take this slow. I really don't want you to feel uncomfortable, but this is a debilitating problem that needs to be solved. If you need a break, or something upsets you, let me know and I will stop. And I will never push you to do anything objectionable. I know your history, and I do not tolerate rape. "</p><p>"I don't want your pity," I spat. This was an old wound I could never help but pick at. I had to close my eyes and breathe several times to get myself under control. </p><p>"No. And I extend you none. As for your questions. Until age 18, you were a ward of the state. Or, in this case, of the federal government. As such, you were provided with shelter, nourishment, medical care, training, and an education. Now that you are an adult, you are an employee. A contract will be drawn up soon. You'll be provided with a bank account and your pay will be deposited into it. </p><p>As for the vampire blood, it is, you could say, more concentrated. Because it is stronger, you need less of it. Any other questions?"</p><p>I was glad to have the answers, even if I didn't like them, and had calmed down again. My gut told me to tell him about Quinn. I opened my mouth and then closed it again. He raised an eyebrow. I sighed and gave in. "I think Quinn was glamoured to rape me." This time both eyebrows went up. </p><p>"Explain."</p><p>He'd really turned down the dial on the chatter. "There were empty spots in his memory. Like they'd been rubbed away, or erased. He definitely wanted me, and my displeasure excited him, but he seemed confused about why he was doing it. When I tried to find where he'd gotten the GHB, it was just gone. I didn't have time to go any deeper than that."</p><p>"Was Dr Beaumont aware that you could detect glamouring?"</p><p>I shrugged. "There have always been holes. I only found out about vampires and glamouring, and put two and two together, last week."</p><p>He looked at the ceiling for a minute or two, seemingly lost in thought. Then he looked at me, stood up, and said "Stop feeling guilty. Come."</p><p>I stayed the fuck put. "Excuse me? Who says I feel guilty?"</p><p>"Do you not?"</p><p>"That's none of your fucking business." </p><p>He shrugged. "So you do."</p><p>"I thought I didn't have a blood tie, you son of a bitch."</p><p>"You don't. And, even if you did, it wouldn't be to me. I don't give out my blood. It was a hunch. And, apparently, I was right."</p><p>I glared at him. He grinned back. "At least you know that, despite what your file says, you are neither a malignant narcissist nor a sociopath. Congratulations. Did you blow the tests on purpose?"</p><p>I continued to glare, but the corner of my lip was traitorous. It just curled up no matter what I did. "I've refused all psych tests for years. The diagnoses were based on observations."</p><p>He laughed. "You are not what I expected at all, Miss Stackhouse. Now come."</p><p>He stood and reached out his hand for mine. I stared at it, and then back at him. "Come on. I won't bite unless you want me to." The charming grin again. I gave up, put my hand in his, and allowed myself to be pulled up. He didn't let go. His hand was cool and dry and hard, and his touch was blissfully silent. With my eyes closed, I could have been holding hands with a marble statue. I ignored the whim wham my heart did before it evened back out, and I hoped that he would think it was because I was wary about being touched, like I tried to convince myself. </p><p>He led me to my bedroom and told me to get changed into workout gear. I took a few minutes to centre myself before I put on yoga pants and a sports bra. When I went back into the hallway, he was leaning against the wall, his feet crossed, typing away on his phone. He wore jeans and a black tank, his hair back in a low ponytail. My heart rate kicked up and I throbbed between my legs. Fuck. Where in the fuck did that come from? I did not need this complication at all. I set my jaw, told my traitorous body to fuck the fuck off, and loudly cleared my throat. That damn eyebrow again. He kept typing. I sighed and crossed my arms. He smirked. I rolled my eyes. Finally, he put his damn phone in his pocket and reached for my hand again. Grudgingly, I gave it to him, and he led me downstairs to his basement dojo. </p><p>The walls were lined with weapons - swords and axes and knives and staffs. I started my stretches, limbering up for what I was sure was going to be a hell of a work out. Eric leaned against the wall again and watched me. I supposed vampires didn't need to stretch. He wasn't leering; he looked almost bored. It was strange not knowing what he was thinking. I always knew how a man felt about me, where I stood. I found that I didn't like this one bit. </p><p>But then it occurred to me that not only was this the first man I'd ever had any real sexual attraction to, he's also the only one I'd ever met whom I could stand to touch. Whose thoughts wouldn't completely obliviate my own, consuming my senses the way touch did now, so much worse than when I was a child. </p><p>I really didn't need this complication.</p><p>Deep breath, Sookie. I packed up all of those emotions I dared not name and shoved them aside. I stopped stretching and leaned against the leaning wall, crossing my arms and ankles, mirroring his posture. I looked back at him and raised one eyebrow. </p><p>The grin was back. I had seen a brooding, calculating vampire through the eyes of the others in the meeting, and in the car last night, so I knew that he wasn't always so chipper. But he seemed so much different than Beaumont, who was always either cold and indifferent or cold and pissed. I don't know if I would call Eric warm - I mean he didn't remind me of Gran - but he was just bursting with life, and it at least gave him the illusion of warmth that Beaumont was completely missing. He was the most alive person I had ever met, and he was a dead guy.</p><p>We sparred with bo staffs and rapiers and longswords. He was, of course, much stronger and faster than I could ever be, and after two and a half hours, I was bathed in sweat, panting, and I couldn't even lift a bo staff parallel to the floor without my arms shaking. I stood with my hands on my knees until I caught my breath. Eric looked almost exactly like he did when we'd started. His hair had gotten a little messed up. It just made him look hotter. Dammit. </p><p>I tried to ignore it and him. I stood up and did some more stretches to cool down. Eric pulled the elastic out of his hair and shook his head. He smoothed it back and into a fresh low ponytail. Ugh. I put on my boredest face and looked up at the clock on the wall. Not quite 3:00 am. </p><p>"We should get a bite to eat." The grin again. Oh, swell. Vampire humour. I followed him upstairs, and admired the view. </p><p>When we got to the kitchen, I said, "I'm going to grab a quick shower first. I smell disgusting."</p><p>He snorted, which was a strange sound for a vampire to make, and then he grinned with a lot of teeth. He seemed genuinely amused for some reason. "If you say so." </p><p>Whatever. I headed for the hall to my room, and then remembered. "Oh. I made a couple of stakes. I don't want you to think I'm hiding anything. They're in my room. Nothing against you, but I can't read your mind and I don't know you, and basically don't trust anyone but myself. Plus, you're stronger and faster than I am. So, yeah. I promise I won't use them unless you're in the process of killing me or raping me or whatever. Despite what some assholes think, I am not out of control. Not even a little bit."</p><p>He blinked a couple of times. I'd startled him again. His face was otherwise impassive, but I almost thought he was amused. "Understood. I hope I will earn your trust."</p><p>Well, that was easy enough.</p><p>I took a long hot shower and dressed in cotton shorts and a t-shirt. I padded into the kitchen. Eric was leaning again, sipping blood from a glass, and watching me. I knew I needed protein, but I didn't feel much like trying my hand at cooking at this time of night. I grabbed the jar of peanut butter. I really needed to try sticking to some kind of schedule tomorrow. I needed to treat my body better than this. But, oh my god, the big sticky spoonful of peanut butter was heaven. I might have moaned a little. I took another slug of milk out of the carton and washed the spoon. Eating like shit cut down on the dishes, at least. </p><p>I turned around and leaned back against the sink. "What now?"</p><p>"I have some NSA work to catch up on. Nights are very short this time of year. I know it can take time for humans to acclimate to vampire hours, so try to get some rest. I will see you this evening." He reached his hand out to me and I held it.</p><p>"Good night, Eric."</p><p>"Good night."</p><p>I let go of his hand and went back to my room. I brushed my teeth, got undressed, and climbed into bed. I felt for Eric and found him in the study. God, he was scary. And not at all in a ‘yikes, a vampire's going to eat me’ kind of way. More like in a ‘damn, I wish the vampire would eat me’ kind of way. I had the stakes under my pillow, but I hoped I would never need them. I closed my eyes and was immediately asleep.</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Unsettled and Settling In</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to ilovemysteries for her awesome beta work.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For the first time in my life, I woke up from a sex dream that wasn’t a nightmare. I was gasping, just on the edge of cumming. Holy shit. I reached down and slowly circled my clit with my fingers. I was so wet. I tried to make my imagination take up where the dream had left off, and I came hard, imagining Eric's mouth instead of my hand between my thighs. Um, wow. That was new. And kind of amazing. </p><p>Curious, I tentatively licked the fingers I'd used to finish myself off. Hmm. Not bad. And kinda hot. I guess I got to join the rest of the world and be a pervert now. </p><p>I got up, used the bathroom, washed my hands, brushed my teeth and threw on the shorts and t-shirt I'd worn for a few minutes the night before. I wandered into the kitchen and stood in front of the fridge with the door open for a couple of minutes, trying to decide what to have. The groceries I'd written down yesterday weren't here yet, so I decided to make myself bacon and eggs and toast. Possibly hold the eggs if they turned out rubbery.</p><p>I discovered that cooking is a whole lot less straightforward than something like fighting, since there is such a wide spectrum of tools and ingredients. The personal cooking manuals got me through eventually, and everything tasted fine. Even the eggs, which I fried over easy in bacon fat. I did the dishes and wandered out to the back yard. I stripped off and dove in, swimming laps until I didn't feel like swimming any longer. I pulled myself out and laid down on a chaise in the sunshine. </p><p>The patio door opened, and a man came out. Huh. I shaded my eyes with my hand. Apparently, this was Bobby, Eric's day guy. Whoops. I wasn't dressed for company. In fact, I wasn't dressed at all. But it was fine. I could take him, easy. "Hey. I'm Sookie."</p><p>"Uh… Um… Uh… Hi? I'm… uh… Bobby. Bobby Burnham. I… uuuuuhhhh… I work for Master Northman."</p><p>Master. Ha! "Oh, hey, Bobby. Nice to meet you. I work for Eric, too."</p><p>Well. That was maybe the wrong thing to say. Bobby seemed to think that I was some kind of executive assistant prostitute hybrid. I supposed I couldn't blame him too much, considering. </p><p>"Uh… Nice to meet you, too." He took one more long look, and then ran back inside. I kept track of his movements as he put away the groceries and set the new phone and laptop on the table. Score! Except spyware was successfully installed on both. And unfortunately, Bobby had the documentation on said spyware in a sealed envelope instead of in his noggin. It was not from the NSA, so I couldn't go on what I'd had in the past. Oh, well. Can't win 'em all. I could still use them for anything I didn't mind Eric, and therefore the US government, knowing about. </p><p>I found the wifi password in Bobby's brain, but then something occurred to me. I threw on my clothes and ran inside before he could leave. "Hey, Bobby? Do you think you could get that laptop set up for me, please? I don't know the wifi password." I bit my lip and stuck out my boobs a little for the camera. I didn't expect it to convince Bobby, I just didn't want Eric to catch on to what I was doing.</p><p>"Uh… I don't know. Master hasn't told me it was OK."</p><p>A couple of days earlier, I wondered if I could hypnotize people. Maybe do my own kind of glamouring. I caught Bobby's eye and gave him a bit of a mental push. "Bobby, please connect my new laptop to Eric's wifi." </p><p>"Uh… OK."</p><p>Holy shit. He opened up the box, plugged in the laptop, and started getting it all ready to go. I ever-so-casually went back outside and laid in the sun. I left my clothes on this time. </p><p>Um. So apparently I can do that now. Or, maybe he wanted to impress me, and changed his mind on his own? No, there was no rubbed away area on his brain for that memory, but it was hazy and indistinct. I did something. I could see it. Vampires make people do things, and then erase their memories and install new ones so that they think it was their own idea. I think I had actually convinced Bobby to change his mind. Same effect, different execution.</p><p>Maybe it was just a fluke? It's possible. It probably wasn't that hard to convince him. I could try to push him to do something harder, but I didn't want to raise any red flags on video. I didn't think Eric would be suspicious so far; he hadn't told Bobby not to set up the wifi, so he should come to the conclusion that Bobby had been persuaded by my boobs and not mind control. </p><p>But I'm pretty sure I can do mind control now. At least for easy things. And maybe easy people. I really had some experimenting to do.</p><p>After Bobby was finished, he came back outside. He was very relieved and very disappointed that I still had my clothes on. “It’s all hooked up Miss… Uh…”</p><p>“Sookie. Just Sookie. Thanks, Bobby. You’ve been a huge help.”</p><p>He nodded awkwardly and left. Weird guy.</p><p>I wandered inside and sat down in front of the laptop at the kitchen island. I guessed I would make sure the spyware was doing its job. I used the Building H security guys’ favourite places to find online porn, and started downloading several videos. It would probably take all day, but I had lots of time. And it wasn’t like I planned to watch it anyway. </p><p>I wandered back into the kitchen. Man, I just didn’t know what to do with myself with all of this free time. There was a piece of paper and a pen on the island again, so I added exercise equipment. I checked the time - 5:30. Ugh. Eric wouldn’t be up for at least three more hours. What in the hell was I going to do with myself? I was done just sitting around. I put on some socks and sneakers, and went for a run. I didn’t go as fast as I could - it was daylight, and if people saw, there would be questions. I kept up an easy pace and went down every street in the neighbourhood. The houses were large and quite far apart, each one sitting on at least a couple of acres. Trying to turn that into a mental map of the area was tricky after only one pass through. I had lots of time, so I ran it again twice more, and had the layout down pat. I put in the entry code at the front door back home, and went inside. Was this home? I had no idea.</p><p>Back in the kitchen, I jotted chocolate milk, ice cream, and a fruit platter down on the list, then drank my blood and ate a banana. Almost two hours to go. Ugh. I went back out to the pool, stripped, jumped back in and swam for a while again. Then I laid down on a chaise in the early evening sun and, apparently, fell asleep.</p><p>“Wake up.” </p><p>Oh shit. Someone sounded pissed. I opened one eye. Oh, yeah. Standing down by my feet. Fangs down. I guessed super duper pissed. I had no idea downloading porn and taking a nap were so egregious. Dammit, I should have a stake out here. Play it cool, Sookie. I yawned, stretched, and said, “Hey. I guess I fell asleep. Sorry. I’ll get up and get dressed.”</p><p>“See that you do.”</p><p>He turned around and stormed back into the house. I guess someone got up on the wrong side of the coffin this evening. What the fuck was his problem? From what I'd "heard" vampires sure as hell weren't prudes. I had stayed far away from any of Belinda's sexytime memories - I was not remotely into voyeurism - but she had seen tons of casual nudity during her short time as a day person. If it was anyone else, I would just be able to tell why Eric was so angry. Not being able to read his mind was the worst. I depended on my telepathy, dammit. How was I supposed to learn to trust someone if I couldn't know everything he was thinking? Now I was pissed, too.</p><p>I stormed in behind him. I went over to the fridge, yanked the door open, and grabbed the milk. I chugged the rest of the carton. I slammed the refrigerator door closed, and threw the empty in the trash. I turned around and he was standing in front of the laptop, his arms crossed. He still looked pissed, but the corner of his lip was twitching. I didn’t have the patience for this shit right now. I suppose this was what the NSA meant when they said that I was reactive and temperamental. "What?" I snapped at him.</p><p>He gestured at the computer. “Tantric Vampire Sex? Pornography? With fake vampires?”</p><p>I shrugged, deflating. “I wanted to give your IT schmucks something to do.”</p><p>He lost control of the twitch, and it turned into almost a smile. </p><p>The door from the garage opened, and another vampire walked in. She was beautiful - petite and blonde with huge blue eyes. Holy shit. This had been Belinda's boss. Belinda, the chatty small business owner from the convention whom I had just thought of. I felt like I had met that girl a year ago rather than, what? The morning before last?</p><p>As everyone on my "team" was well aware, I fucked with people like it was my job. I was still a little pissed, so I decided to fuck with Eric and his cute little friend, hard. I was nonchalant. Bored, even. "Oh. Hey, Pam."</p><p>They froze, staring at me. Oh, man. Keep a straight face, Sookie. Look natural… I took a cue from Eric and leaned against the nearest wall. Seconds ticked by. I had to slow down my heart rate. Fuck. I was going to have to make the next move. I felt like Laura Dern standing between a couple of velociraptors. Hey, look at me with a pop culture reference, and in the middle of a crisis! "I met Belinda the other day. She says hi."</p><p>A breath. Two. Then they looked at each other and burst out laughing. Oh, thank fuck. I walked over to the island and wrote Jurassic Park on DVD and milk on the list. </p><p>"Oh, Eric. I like this one. And she's young enough to housebreak. I'll even share! Let's keep her."</p><p>I liked Pam a lot, too. We didn't get any work done. The three of us sat around for a couple of hours and just talked. I told them about meeting Belinda, and combing her memory (and everyone else's) for any information she might have on vampires after learning about Beaumont from Alcide a few days before. Apparently, not glamouring him had been an oversight. But I would have figured it out a few days later when Beaumont lost her shit, anyhow.</p><p>"So, you can just do a keyword search in someone's brain?" That was Pam.</p><p>I shrugged. The NSA already knew this, so I had no problem talking about it. "Pretty much. It's hard to describe. It isn't exactly like a hard drive with folders full of files and I can just pop in a word, hit enter and go. But it's a decent metaphor, I guess."</p><p>"And you can't read vampire minds?" Eric, this time, a very serious look on his face. He was doing the touching fingertips thing again. </p><p>"Nope. Can't read vampires or demons. Those are the only ones so far, anyhow. Weres and shifters used to be harder, but they aren't really any more difficult than humans now." I was sitting on the island, which separated the kitchen from the dining room. Pam and Eric were sitting at the dining room table with glasses of blood.</p><p>"Eric, why does she smell so delicious?"</p><p>"Pam."</p><p>"Excuse me?"</p><p>"Have you had a taste? Can I have one?"</p><p>"Pamela. Enough."</p><p>"I'll glamour her to forget, of course…"</p><p>Wow. Awkward. Definitely sleeping with a stake tonight. "Oh! That doesn't work on me. At least, I'm pretty sure that it doesn't. Beaumont didn't have any more luck getting me to do shit that I didn't want to do than anyone else did, even when she made my brain tingle. Well, not until she beat the submission into me." And, sometimes, not even then. </p><p>Not that they had to force me to work hard! I worked my ass off. But there are many things that I did and that were done to me that I did not consent to, and would not have consented to had I not been forced.</p><p>Eric confirmed that I can't be glamoured. Pam looked really surprised. And kind of disappointed. "Sorry, Pam. You're not my type."</p><p>Actually, she kind of was. I mean quiet was way more important than male. I would rather do her than almost anyone else. But I still wasn't interested. But, if Eric…</p><p>No. No, Sookie. No. Absolutely positively not. It was a completely terrible idea. I could not make myself vulnerable like that. Plus he seemed to be reactive and temperamental worse than I was.</p><p>What if I could keep it to just fucking? I didn't have to get invested, right? Just screw around. Have a good time. No strings…</p><p>Such bullshit. I was already mooning over him. </p><p>I was so screwed.</p><p>Hopefully..?</p><p>No, I was being ridiculous. He hadn't given me one indication that he was remotely interested in me. Hell, for some reason, my naked body enraged him. Plus he said that he would never touch me in an inappropriate way. Maybe he's gay? Of course, I had gone from never wanting to be touched at all to wanting to be touched all over in a very inappropriate way. But we'd only held hands. I didn't even know if I would be able to stand that much contact.</p><p>Plus it would be a terrible idea, and my heart would get broken, and it might ruin Eric's career, and I just needed to go back to being completely uninterested in sex and love and relationships.</p><p>Ok. That went way too far. I was spiralling out of control again. I excused myself to the bathroom. What I needed was to feel in control again. I left my bedroom door open, and closed the bathroom door behind me, but kept the knob turned and opened it right back up again. I pulled it almost to, so it would dampen the sound of the flush and water running, but not make any noise. Hopefully they weren't paying too close attention. I quietly opened the bathroom door when I was done and tiptoed back into the bedroom.</p><p>Eric had a mix of marble floors and thick plush rugs. I put on some socks and silently moved back toward the kitchen. I was trained in stealth, and my senses were enhanced; my hearing was nearly as good as a Were's in human form. I could finally hear them from three rooms away, if I held my breath. </p><p>"So, what is she?"</p><p>"We're not sure. The background check into the family revealed nothing. Everyone in the family tree is human, as far as we could tell, going back five or six generations. Unless the history was not recorded properly."</p><p>"Unless someone screwed around, you mean."</p><p>"Precisely. My guess would be…" A long pause.</p><p>"What? Your guess would be what?"</p><p>I heard the chair leg scrape the floor, and I walked backwards as quickly and quietly as I could until I got back to my bedroom. I had made it out of sight in time. I turned and ran into the bathroom, and walked right back out again, my hand on the doorknob, just as they walked in. </p><p>"Oh, hey, guys! What's up?"</p><p>Eric squinted. He looked down at my feet. I could tell he suspected that I'd been spying, but wasn't quite sure. He noticed the socks and raised an eyebrow. He wanted me to give something away. He was trying to get me to talk. If I tried to explain myself, I would sound guilty and give up valuable information. But this wasn't my first rodeo. I would keep my mouth shut.</p><p>And then it hit me. He almost certainly had cameras everywhere. He was probably going to see it all anyhow. Dammit.</p><p>Oh well. Fuck it. They trained me to be a spy. I'll do what they taught me to do - keep my mouth shut, deny, lie, and obfuscate. If I got caught, I'd take whatever punishment he wanted to mete out. I needed all of the information about myself I could get. </p><p>I just looked at them. I wasn't going to give in this time. I kept a rein on my emotions and managed to keep my cool. And Eric blinked first. "It's nothing. Pam and I have work to do elsewhere tonight. I will be back before dawn. We have a mission tomorrow, so get adequate rest." He waited a beat. "I believe Bobby placed your new bathing suits in your closet." That twitch in his lip again. </p><p>"Ok. Thanks. I guess I'll make something to eat and go to bed. It was great to meet you, Pam."</p><p>"You too, Sookie. I can't wait to smell you again. See you later."</p><p>"Good night."</p><p>They both left. I really didn't want to cook anything for just myself. What a pain. I thought about going for another spoonful of peanut butter, and then cursed myself for being lazy. I cooked up some bacon and chicken thighs and put them in a big salad, and ate it in front of the TV. It was past three in the morning and there was a rerun on of a sitcom I had watched when I was a little girl. For the second time in as many nights, I was reminded so strongly of that other life I could hardly believe was once mine. It didn't even seem real any more, like it only ever existed in a dream. I thought of us together in the living room watching TV, Mama and Daddy cuddling and kissing on the couch, Jason on the recliner, the footstool up, leaned back with his hands laced behind his head, and me lying on my stomach on the floor, my chin in my hands and my bare feet in the air. </p><p>I turned the TV off and did the dishes. I got a shower and shaved and marveled at the smoothness. I was never allowed razors before. Knives and guns, but no razors. I climbed into bed and scanned the house. I was all alone. And I realized that, unlike last night, Eric hadn't touched me today at all. In fact, he acted like I was contagious or something. He had been friendly enough when we were chatting, but he was still distant, and much cooler than he'd been the night before. His behaviour towards me was as all over the place as my emotions. And I realized that I missed it. I missed it very much.</p><p>For the first time in my life, I fell asleep in a building all by myself. I kept a stake under my pillow.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Penance and Atonement</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I woke the next morning not long after I fell asleep. It was 5:30. Lights on back at Fort Meade. I tried to get back to sleep, afraid that Eric would be angry if I wasn't properly rested for our mission tonight.</p><p>And then I realized what a crock of shit that was. I mean, pissing him off for shits and giggles wasn't prudent; I didn't want to go back to the status quo, that was for damn sure. And I could certainly play politics and mind my Ps and Qs when it was to further my own goals. But I wasn't going to start walking on eggshells to make sure Master's every whim was appeased.</p><p>Fuck Eric. I hated how grateful I felt to him. How my stomach tightened and my heart rate quickened and my breath caught in my throat every time I saw him. I hated how already I craved his praise and his approval and his affection. Even worse, I hated that I craved his touch. How in the fuck had that happened? More than anything, I hated how small and alone and scared I felt.</p><p>I needed to pull my shit together. Less than two weeks since I'd turned 18 and my strict routine had dissolved. I definitely didn't want the Building H status quo, but I was already getting soft. Undisciplined. Lazy. Ruled by my emotions. No wonder Eric was so pissed off when I was sound asleep outside in the middle of my work day. I should be ashamed of myself. I deserved it.</p><p>I got out of bed and did my morning routine. I did four sets of the exercises instead of the normal one to make up for the days I'd skipped. I stretched my telepathy as far as I could, and read what I could from the neighbours. Most were still asleep, but a couple were starting their day. I had no oatmeal, but I scrambled my eggs until they were rubbery and washed them down with a protein shake. I wrote oatmeal on the list.</p><p>Eric had left a note beside it.</p><p>Miss Stackhouse,</p><p>We will be leaving tonight at 10:30. Please wear the dress hanging on the back of your bathroom door. I look forward to seeing you this evening.</p><p>~e~</p><p>I ignored every good feeling the note made me feel. I went out the front door and started running, headed west. Eric had mentioned that we weren't far from Rock Creek Park, and I found it easily - it was huge and hard to miss. I spent the morning running the more difficult trails, pushing myself when nobody was around to see and I had the privacy to really let go.</p><p>I ran back home, and felt every mile I'd run by the time I got there. I steamed chicken and broccoli, and choked it down with another disgusting shake.</p><p>I spent the afternoon and early evening between the pool and the dojo, building up a sweat with the weapons and martial arts exercises, and then cooling off swimming endless laps, pushing myself to go faster and harder. Penance for letting down my guard. I should know by now that I will never survive if I allow myself to soften.</p><p>I roasted chicken and broccoli the way Maria Star liked to, and it was actually kind of delicious. I drank the shake with it, and realized that my whole body felt like there was an electric current running through it. I was going on less than two hours' sleep, I had pushed and punished my body for hours, but I still felt like I could climb a mountain.</p><p>I was standing in the kitchen in my bikini adding chicken and broccoli to the list when Eric came in. His hair was damp and loose, he was shirtless and his button was undone and the fly was half open. A marble statue of a Norse god in Seven jeans, come to life. All of the heat in my body rushed between my thighs. Based on how my mouth and bikini bottoms felt, so did all of the moisture. His expression went from preoccupation to surprise to heat. His eyes raked down my body the way mine had just done to him, and then they met mine. I wondered if my pupils were as dilated as his. Electricity seemed to crackle between us.</p><p>He pulled his eyes from mine and walked over to the fridge. I blinked, and shook myself out of whatever the fuck that was. He pulled open the door, stared inside, and then turned as he slammed it closed. He had a hard look on his face, and his fangs were down again. Any lust I was sure I'd seen was long gone. "Why are three of your blood shakes gone?"</p><p>It was like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on my head. Shit. I had been so intent on getting myself back on track that I hadn't even thought about the stronger blood and the potential for taking too much. I did not make stupid mistakes like this. Ever. "I… I was concerned that my lack of discipline would make me soft. I've been lazy and unmotivated. I put myself back on my schedule as much as possible, and since I'd always had three..." I trailed off. I hated how small and weak I sounded.</p><p>I dropped to my knees with my wrists touching behind my back, and tilted my head back to expose my throat, as I had been taught, to await my punishment. I wasn't always so submissive, but if I truly fucked up, I owned it. Every time. The NSA and I weren't always on the same page of what constituted a fuck up and what didn't, though, and it had given me a bit of a reputation for disobedience.</p><p>Eric's jaw tightened. "The vampire blood in your vitamin shakes generally comes from vampires who have been sentenced to their final death. They are drained first, and the blood is earmarked for medical research.</p><p>The longer vampire blood is stored, the more unstable it becomes. Improperly stored vampire blood can be very dangerous, and can cause the user to go insane. But the blood you get is quite fresh, and it is always stored properly. Even in large quantities, it should be safe."</p><p>His eyes softened. "Get up. It will be fine. There was no harm done. It was an honest mistake." He opened the fridge again and took out a couple of bags of blood and carried them to the microwave. I had been dismissed.</p><p>I got up and slunk back downstairs to the dojo. Most of the floor was covered in mats, but there was a bare strip next to one of the walls. I pulled the largest sword on the wall, a zweihänder, down from its place, and I kneeled on the bare floor. I balanced the sword across my palms, holding it parallel to the floor with my arms straight out and my knuckles facing the floor. I made sure to never let my elbows bend or my hands move. My arms were trembling within minutes, but I could best my weakness. Penance was the word of the day. I closed my eyes and shoved the pain and weakness in a mental box and set it aside. I breathed. The trembling stopped. I counted out 2700 seconds, 45 minutes, and checking the clock when I was done, I was within allowable range. If I was off by 90 seconds or more, I had to do it again. I didn't have time to be wrong tonight.</p><p>I nearly stumbled when I stood up and took my first step, but I caught myself and managed to put the sword away and climb back up the stairs. I nodded at Eric, who was leaning against the dojo wall with his arms crossed, watching me again. He had gotten dressed, thank goodness. His eyes still looked soft, but his jaw was clenched again. I couldn't make sense of his expression.</p><p>I stood under the shower for a long time with the water as hot as I could stand it. Finally my muscles relaxed enough that I could reach my head to shampoo my hair. The vampire blood in my system was healing the microtears in my muscles as I showered. By the time I was done, my body just felt pleasantly tired. I would feel fine after a bit of a rest.</p><p>Eric had explained that vampire blood was much better than steroids at building muscle; when you work out, your muscles get injured. When they heal, they are larger and stronger. V heals the muscles naturally, only at a greatly increased speed. Do that over and over, you can bulk up and get strong really fast. And that's on top of the supernatural strength the blood gives you.</p><p>I came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. Eric was sitting on the edge of my bed. His whole face was soft now. "Sookie, keeping to a routine is fine, as long as you allow for some flexibility. But to integrate into society, you will need to be deinstitutionalized. I am afraid that I have set you up for failure again by not being explicit in my expectations for you."</p><p>He stood up and walked over to me. He put both hands on my bare shoulders and squeezed lightly. His hands were cool and dry and his touch was silent. I closed my eyes, actually savoring the physical connection. "Get ready. There will be drinks and dancing. We will talk more on the way."</p><p>The dress was a gorgeous Balenciaga cocktail number, in blue again. There was a pink post-it note stuck to the dress inside the garment bag.</p><p>Sookie,</p><p>I expect to hear all about how sexy you look tonight, so don't disappoint me. Wear the shoes and jewelry I laid out for you.</p><p>Hugs and kisses. Please!</p><p>Pam</p><p>I smiled for the first time that day. I was ready quite quickly, and thought I looked OK. I blow dried my hair and left it loose, and gave myself a smokey eye and dark red lips. The shoes Pam had picked were of the fuck-me variety, and the jewelry was gorgeous but tasteful.</p><p>I went back to the kitchen, and it was almost 10:30. I was nervous, but I hid that shit behind a mask of boredom. I pulled the fruit tray from the fridge and nibbled on some strawberries. God, fresh fruit was delightful.</p><p>Eric came in wearing a tailored charcoal suit with a black shirt underneath, no tie, and looking like sex on legs. Really long legs. Really long sexy legs. I ate another strawberry to cover up any drool, covered the tray, and stuck it back in the fridge. Fortunately, I couldn't do all of that and stare, so it was really useful.</p><p>"Are you ready to go?" He held out his hand and smiled. I guessed we were back to touchy feely. I took his hand and smiled back. It wasn't the crazy smile I had when I was a little girl, back when I gave a shit when people thought poorly of me. It was natural, and I'm afraid it looked a little shy. It felt odd on my face.</p><p>We went out to the garage, and he opened the passenger door of the Corvette for me. I got in and Eric closed the door, and was almost immediately climbing into the driver's seat beside me. We pulled out of the driveway and headed toward the exit for the highway.</p><p>The traffic wasn't too bad at this time of night, and we were soon cruising along at highway speed. With no more need to shift, Eric laced his fingers with mine, stroking my thumb with his. He caught my eye and smiled. "You look lovely, Sookie."</p><p>I realized that that was just the second time he'd used my first name. The first was earlier, after my shower. It gave me a little thrill somehow. "Thank you. You do, too. Look handsome, I mean." And I blushed. I actually fucking blushed, like a fucking 14 year old virgin.</p><p>I had been molested sporadically from my earliest memories until I was 8. I was raped regularly from 8-12. I had been celibate for the six years since, unless you counted the experience with Quinn, which I didn't. It wasn't the way most people did things. I was very experienced sexually, but I was a romantic virgin. I had no peers. I hadn't even had a crush since third grade, which I didn't even get to finish. I was fond of Tray, but more in a paternal way than anything else, and the rest were generally abusive or indifferent. Definitely not crush material. Little JB DuRone was a cutie, though.</p><p>"You didn't tell me anything about the mission."</p><p>He smirked at me. "You didn't give me much of a chance yet today."</p><p>Ouch. "I deserved that."</p><p>"The mission fell through. We had intel that a terrorist was meeting a contact at the nightclub, but they cancelled at the last minute. I figured that we would go anyway. You need experience doing human things. Going out on a date to a nightclub is a human thing. And a vampire one."</p><p>The grin was back. And a date? Did that mean that we were on a date, or was I being trained on how to behave on a hypothetical date? If this were that sitcom I'd watched last night, I would spend the evening making the wrong assumptions and making a fool of myself, and hilarity (and my complete and utter humiliation) would ensue. I was not going to wishy wash my way through the night, though. "What in the fuck do you mean date?" Subtlety wasn't my strong point.</p><p>"A platonic evening of drinks and dancing, where we shall observe the behaviour of the young adult human in its natural habitat, while enjoying ourselves immensely." Of course, this was accompanied by a thousand watt grin. Platonic. Right. I could do that. I smiled back at him in relief. Mostly.</p><p>I scanned the parking lot, and then the club before we went in. Eric watched me, and he looked completely fascinated. It didn't make me uncomfortable; I was more than used to people watching me. I explained, "I'm just scanning everyone's current thoughts to check for threats. There are a couple hundred people in and around here, all told. I could search each one to see if anyone had weapons, or was planning anything illegal, or if anyone is underage, but it would take a while."</p><p>"How long?"</p><p>I shrugged. "It depends on how many things I'm looking for, how detailed, the minds of the people involved, stuff like that. I could probably check everyone for concealed weapons only in 20 minutes? A half hour? Maybe a bit more."</p><p>We really did enjoy ourselves immensely. Or, at least, I did. He was a wonderful dancer, very hands on, touchy feely, and we danced far more than we sat and talked, although we did a lot of that, too.</p><p>We were taking a break from dancing, and I was drinking a gin and tonic. Eric nursed a never-ending (or never-beginning, if you wanted to get technical) glass of red wine. I was quite possibly tipsy. My pulse jumped and Eric looked at me and raised one eyebrow. I leaned over to whisper in his ear, so low that it was barely a breath. "He's here." He leaned back out and looked at me, confused. I rolled my eyes and grabbed his hand and dragged him onto the dance floor. A slow song was on, and I pulled him close to me. With the fuck-me pumps, I was only 6 or 7 inches shorter than him. With a tug on his neck, I was able to hold my mouth right up to his ear. "The terrorist is here. Heydar Al-Ameri?"</p><p>Well, by the look on Eric's face, this wasn't a test I just passed. But his surprise turned into a smile that was honestly terrifying and panty-wetting all at the same time. I realized that I had no idea whether, as a vampire agent, Eric arrested bad guys or ate them. I mean, the Constitution guarantees the right to due process and all of that, but fuck knows the NSA wiped their ass with the Constitution when it came to me. I didn't think they followed the rules when they didn't have to. Shocker.</p><p>He dipped me low, and then righted me, spinning me around. He tucked my hair behind my ear and then put his closed mouth to my neck, for show, and then up to my ear to whisper back. I shivered, first at the cool, closed lips on my throat, and then at the cool breeze on my ear. "You aren't armed."</p><p>"What kind of spy do you think I am?" I mouthed. I took his hand and glided it down so he could feel the garter holster on my right thigh. He slipped his hand up under the dress to feel the throwing knives. I got the closed mouth smirk with a quick lift of his eyebrows. He spun me out to the end of his right arm and back in. Cheeky vampire. At least that left my right hand free to hold my goddamn skirt down to keep the knives hidden. I ran my fingers through his hair to pull his ear down close to my lips again. I wet them before I started to speak, and maybe swiped the shell of his ear with my tongue in the process. This game was fun. "Planning attack on Pentagon. Principals meeting tomorrow night. Warehouse in Bethesda. I have the address."</p><p>I pulled back to look in his eyes, to make sure he heard me. Apparently, telepathy turned him on. The heat was back, and I could tell his fangs had run out. Did that always mean anger? They were just peeking out from his parted lips. I couldn't pull my eyes away. That whole 'it was like time stood still' thing was such a cliche, but it really did feel like that. We both forgot to breathe; he didn't have to, but he kept up appearances in public to pass as human.</p><p>Eric pulled me close to him and the moment passed. I took a deep breath and put my head on Eric's chest. I kept a tab on Al-Ameri, and we danced. I kept Eric updated without the over-the-top flirting. But my head kept leaning against him, his hand rubbing my bare lower back felt incredibly intimate, and we kept getting a little bit lost whenever our eyes met. There was also the matter of Eric's Mr. Happy hard against my abdomen, and I was almost positive he was sniffing my hair. I was high as a kite on endorphins and adrenaline, on top of the gin &amp; tonics and extra helpings of vampire blood.</p><p>Al-Ameri knocked back the drink he was holding, and headed for the exit, a cute but dumb redhead on his arm. Apparently, he was going to get lucky. Eric and I were still on the dance floor. I pulled his head down again and wrapped my arms around his neck. I pressed my cheek against his so our mouths were next to each other's ears. We could at least attempt to converse. I whispered, "I know where he's going. Her place. He really is planning on fucking her and leaving, and then staying in his apartment until it's time to meet up tomorrow. She wants to fuck him, too."</p><p>"Where are they parked?"</p><p>"He parked way out in the boonies by us because he didn't want to get his precious Trans Am dinged, either. There are plenty of cars, though, so we won't look out of place."</p><p>"Are you holding up OK? We may need to do a little acting."</p><p>"Sure. But I can just hold onto his brain until he drives off, and then we can go out and follow him. As long as he doesn't get more than four miles away or so, we're good."</p><p>He pulled away. The grin with lots of teeth was back. "Let's go." He pulled me out the door.</p><p>Al-Ameri and the girl, Ginger, were just a couple of aisles over in the parking lot. They had stopped to make out a little bit.</p><p>Eric winked at me, and pushed my back up against a pillar and put his face against my neck. I heard him inhaling deeply. I'm sure it looked for all the world like he was kissing me there. Or biting, I guess. I shivered. I had my hands in his hair again. Al-Ameri and the girl had moved on and were nearly to his car. I grabbed Eric's hand and pulled him in that direction, walking backwards. He didn't seem to mind me taking charge, and his eyes sparked with good humour and lust.</p><p>The other couple had gotten in his car, and were making out some more. I pushed Eric against an older Dodge that definitely wouldn't have an alarm system and molded myself against him. "You OK?" A touch of concern in his eyes, too.</p><p>I pulled him down and mouthed the side of his neck, using my teeth a little, before I nearly panted in his ear. I was quickly losing control of my libido. The one I was sure was non-existent two days before. "He's about to come. He has no plans to reciprocate here, and she's too nice to ask. They'll leave soon."</p><p>Eric licked my neck, and I felt it in my clit. I was definitely panting now. He whispered back, "Fool."</p><p>I caught his eye and smiled up at him. I licked my lips before I leaned forward and whispered, "Which one?"</p><p>We were playing with fire. I was quite sure it started in my panties, but I was getting consumed with it.</p><p>And then he threw the metaphorical bucket of water on me again. His eyes hardened and he almost hissed, "Get in the car." And it wasn't 'get in the car so I can drive home immediately and fuck you until dawn,' either. Oh my god. I was out of control. Did I misjudge his feelings? Oh, shit. Did I fail a test? Was that what he meant by fool? Not Al-Ameri for leaving Ginger unsatisfied, or Ginger for not demanding that he takes care of her needs, but me for acting like a wanton hussy? Was I going to have to continue to live with him and work for him after throwing myself at him and flunking the don't try to seduce your boss test? It took everything I had not to drop to my knees in the middle of the asphalt parking lot.</p><p>I got in the Corvette and shrunk into the passenger seat. Eric got in and just gripped the steering wheel, looking forward.</p><p>I could barely get my voice above a whisper, "I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me. I… I…"</p><p>He looked at me, shocked and angry. "Sookie! I am not angry at you. I am angry at myself. You are inexperienced and are under the influence of alcohol and vampire blood. You are the asset. I need to take care of you, not take advantage of you."</p><p>This felt too fucking close to pity to me. I felt the most impotent rage and shame and embarrassment, and tears stood in my eyes, and I hated it. "Fuck you. I'm not some poor little weak girl that needs taking care of." I felt exactly like a poor little weak girl, though.</p><p>He sighed in exasperation. "Sookie…"</p><p>I whispered, "They're leaving."</p><p>He looked over at me and cupped my cheek. Despite myself, I leaned into his touch. It was so like the gesture that Tray had made before the meeting, but with Eric, I got to feel it. It was little wonder I craved his touch. Being able to have a physical connection with someone was not only pleasant but nearly euphoric after a lifetime of negative stimulus or forced abstinence from all touch. And he had never touched me anywhere my clothes didn't cover. The more I felt that connection, the more I seemed to need it. And our hands hadn't been off each other all night, at least after we put that mess back at the house behind us.</p><p>He leaned forward and put his forehead against mine. He seemed to crave my touch as much as I craved his. "Tell me the address where they're going, and I will text it to Pam. I'm going to take you home. You need rest. I know you didn't sleep much last night; the alarm system logs all of the entries and exits."</p><p>It was my turn to sigh. "You're giving me whiplash, Eric."</p><p>He leaned back in his seat. "I know. I'm sorry. Unfortunately, I seem to be suffering from it as well."</p><p>I didn't think sorry was a word Eric said often. I gave him the address and he texted it to Pam, so she could keep an eye on the terrorist.</p><p>He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. Eric had brought up the alarm system, so I took the opportunity to get a little more information. "You mentioned the alarm. What about cameras?"</p><p>"There is a camera in the foyer pointed at the front door, as well as in various points outside: front porch, along the perimeter, back door, two on the garage, the pool yard…" He grinned and waggled his eyebrows.</p><p>"None in my bedroom?"</p><p>"No, of course not. The only ones in the house at all are the one I mentioned in the foyer, and the tamper-proof ones inside my safes."</p><p>I had privacy. And I didn't get caught spying last night. I smiled back at him and reached for his hand. We were on the highway by then, so he laced his fingers with mine and kissed my knuckles.</p><p>After a few minutes, I broke the silence. "It's inevitable, you know," Tonight had felt very much like we were on the tracks with no brakes. It was exhilarating and terrifying, and I knew that we would be flying over the cliff sooner or later.</p><p>Another sigh. "I know." He kissed my hand again, and we drove the rest of the way in silence. Or I assume so, because I fell asleep with my head on his shoulder in the Corvette with our hands clasped together in my lap, and I woke up in the late afternoon alone in bed.</p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Get The Stake Out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's Stakeout Sunday! Thanks to ilovemysteries, as always, for being awesome.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first thing I did after getting up and doing the bathroom thing was check the kitchen island for a note. I had no idea what the plan for tonight was going to be. Were we just doing surveillance? Making arrests? An Eric and Pam buffet? Would it be just us, or would there be a whole team? I was so out of the loop.</p><p>Sookie,</p><p>We will leave as soon as Pam arrives after first dark. I enjoyed our date very much. Remember to wear black.</p><p>Until tonight,</p><p>~e~</p><p>Well, I didn't get much in the way of answers, but my heart was galloping in my chest. Last night had been equal parts wonderful and terrifying. The daredevil in me was turned on by both. I couldn't wait for tonight. I was dreading it. I decided to try not to think of it and get on with my day.</p><p>I did the morning routine, (even if it was almost evening, technically) but just did the one set of exercises. I drank my shake and picked at the fruit platter before stretching out on the couch in the library with a book. It was pouring rain, and I didn't much feel like running or swimming outside. I was trying not to think, but I wasn't really having much luck with it. Fortunately, I only had about three hours to kill before I had to start getting ready.</p><p>After an hour, I gave up. I kept rereading the same sentence over and over again. Relaxing just wasn't going to happen today, so I went down to the dojo and worked out for a while. I grabbed a sandwich and a shower, and was dressed and putting my hair up in a ponytail when Eric filled the doorway of my bedroom. I met his eyes in the mirror. He too was wearing black - Black jeans, a black wife beater, and a black leather jacket. His hair was pulled back into a tight braid. He looked dangerous and sexy as hell.</p><p>In the time it took me to turn around, he was standing in front of me. My nose was right at the hollow between his nipples. He caressed down my cheek with his knuckles, and then tilted my chin up.</p><p>"We are going to stake out the warehouse. Pam will be here soon. After the meeting, Pam and I will dispose of the terrorists. We will detain anyone who you feel needs to be interrogated further."</p><p>What in the fuck was up with him making intimate gestures while talking about business? I was going to need a neck brace at this rate. I didn't get the impression that he was trying to unbalance me. At least I hoped not. It really seemed natural. Organic. Like he was drawn to me the way I was drawn to him. I'm not talking about some mystical connection; we just had insane chemistry. Unless that counted. But I'm not going to argue philosophy.</p><p>Part of me was waiting for the other shoe to drop. This Eric, hot Eric, kept me off balance all on his own. But cold Eric, the one with the fangs and the glare, he made me feel like I wanted to either run and hide or fight like a banshee. More whiplash.</p><p>I wonder if banshees exist…</p><p>Eric leaned down and kissed me. I had never been kissed before. Not on the mouth. Furnan seemed to think that he wasn't really cheating on his wife if he didn't kiss me. Ok. Let's not go there.</p><p>Eric's mouth was soft. He swiped his tongue against my lips and I opened them to him. I wished his hair was down, so I could plunge my hands into it and run my fingers through it and pull it. I settled for resting my hands on his cheeks. He kept my chin in his hand, with the knuckle of his first finger underneath and his thumb resting on the front. He was an amazing kisser, and I wanted him badly.</p><p>"Knock knock. Well, don't you two look cozy?"</p><p>I stepped back, blushing. "Oh, hey Pam." Time to get back to business. "Eric, shouldn't I be armed with more than my knives?" I had my garter holster on over my pants. Wasn't much point in hiding it.</p><p>"No, that won't be necessary. You'll be staying in the car. "</p><p>"Oh, we're just staking the place out and then going?"</p><p>He and Pam looked at each other.</p><p>"No way, guys. Uh uh. I've been training more than half my life for this shit. I can read intent before anyone can make a move, so they can't hit me. I shoot any weapon better than the best human marksmen in the world. I'm a goddamn telepathic super spy! I'm not going to sit in the fucking car."</p><p>"Yes, you are."</p><p>"No, the fuck I'm not. There's no fucking way I am going to sit in the car while you guys have all the fun."</p><p>Pam interjected, "Sookie, it's not like you're going to eat them. And if you shoot them, they'll just go to waste. Mmmmmm… I love baharat!"</p><p>"Well, I can still help. I can stand guard. I am a telepath. I can see when anyone's coming."</p><p>"Eric, that makes sense. Plus we would be able to keep a better eye on her."</p><p>"No."</p><p>"Eric, if you think I'm not just going to get out of the car as soon as you're out of sight, you haven't read my fucking file."</p><p>"You won't if I restrain you."</p><p>I sat down on the bed and crossed my arms. "Sorry guys. I think my telepathy is on the fritz today. Guess you two are going this one alone."</p><p>Eric's fangs were down now. And I guess that shoe was, too, now that it had dropped. He hissed at me. I flipped him off.</p><p>Pam broke in again, "Sookie, you know you want to stop the terrorists."</p><p>Ugh. "I know."</p><p>"And you know you're not going to let us go in there alone. There might be booby traps!"</p><p>I glared at her. There weren't going to be booby traps, for fuck's sake. But Eric and Pam would be safer if I was there to tell them what security measures were in place and what to expect. "You suck, Pam."</p><p>She flashed me a grin with lots of teeth. "I certainly do."</p><p>We went in the Crown Vic. I was the lowly human, so I sat in the back seat. The rain had stopped.</p><p>I said, "I think we should go to Al-Ameri's apartment and follow him to the warehouse. If I hold onto his brain, we can wait in a holding pattern a few miles away until everyone is inside and the meeting starts. Not much chance of getting caught that way. I'll be able to monitor the conversation, and then dig deeper once you move us closer. The meetup isn't for another 90 minutes or so, so we should be able to catch him. He wasn't planning on leaving until the last minute last night. And this way, if the location or time or anything changes, we'll know, instead of just sitting there waiting for nothing."</p><p>"That's really good thinking, Sookie."</p><p>I might have put my nose in the air a little bit. "Thank you, Pam."</p><p>Al-Ameri was in his apartment, watching TV. The meetup was still on, so it was just a waiting game right now. I wished I'd brought a book. Or a sandwich.</p><p>"Sookie, did you bring something to write with?" It sounded like an accusation. Eric was obviously still feeling pissy. What a coincidence. So was I.</p><p>"Why?"</p><p>"To write down the things you hear."</p><p>"Why?"</p><p>"So you'll remember them later." His voice was getting lower and colder with each answer.</p><p>"Oh, do you write things down so you'll remember them later?"</p><p>"Sookie, vampires have perfect recall." He was seething now.</p><p>I gave him a little taste of his own medicine and raised one eyebrow at him in the rear view mirror.</p><p>"I'm going to be reading a dozen people at once. My brain works a million times faster than my hand could ever write. I'll rewind the memories and dictate them to tape as best I can when we get back to the house. As best I can because of the way thoughts work, not because I'll forget anything. I'll give you the highlights in real time. And I'll search for specifics when we know what to search for.</p><p>"And you can stop being an asshole anytime, Eric. You're the one who's in the wrong here. I am fucking good at what I do, and you're just wasting it and insulting me." I still had my arms crossed. I wanted to go back in time to when we were kissing, but mostly just so I could knee him in the balls.</p><p>Finally, Al-Ameri came down and got in his car and we were on our way. We parked at a strip mall about four miles from the warehouse.</p><p>I expanded my hold over everyone in the meeting, the way I'd done after I killed Quinn. They were all making small talk with their neighbours when a tall, striking man came in. All conversation stopped. This was Farhad Khatami, and he was the head of this jihadist cell. His hair was long and curly, and his skin was like cream with a hint of coffee. He was also a vampire. I told Eric and Pam, and had them move closer so I could dig deep on the others. This was a problem; it would make disposing of the cell much more difficult, and I couldn't read his mind. At least now Eric would realize that they needed my help.</p><p>The plan was to place small bombs throughout the Pentagon to be deployed in succession to cause the most damage. Security would wave the terrorists through with the bombs strapped to them, and although nobody seemed to know why, I had the idea that they would be glamoured ahead of time to do so. I dug deeper, and none of the humans knew of anyone else involved. I took mental notes of whatever else I could find.</p><p>I said, "We should go before the meeting breaks up and people start getting away. As far as I can tell, this is everyone in this cell. If we can keep the vampire alive, y'all can interrogate him. He surely has more information. Can I have a gun or something?"</p><p>Eric and Pam were outside with the doors closed before I could blink. I tried to open my door, and it was locked. "You son of a bitch, let me out."</p><p>"Sookie, it is too dangerous, especially with a vampire there. You really do smell delicious. You're staying here."</p><p>And they were gone. That dirty cold dead fuck. I climbed over the back of the front seat. I didn't have any tools with me other than my knives. I used one to start prying the door panel off the door so I could get to the locking mechanism inside. I saw a void coming, and I stopped what I was doing to give whichever one of them it was a piece of my mind.</p><p>Isabel Beaumont looked at me through the windshield of Eric's Crown Vic. Oh shit. What in the hell was she doing here?</p><p>"Sookie, you little bitch. You are going to pay for what you did to Quinn. I've been waiting to get you alone."</p><p>My phone was in the backseat. And Eric and Pam were too busy to answer it, anyway. I was trapped in here. Sookie in a car was the new fish in a barrel. I didn't even have my stakes with me. My throwing knives weren't silver. I was essentially fucked.</p><p>Fight or flight? Stay in the car or smash my way out? Why the fuck didn't I think to smash out the window in the first place? Would I have been able to do it in time? No, I would have waited until Eric and Pam were out of earshot, or at least otherwise occupied, and she would have been on me by the time I got out.</p><p>I decided to stay put. She could, of course, smash her way in, or rip the door off, but it would weaken her some, and give me time to fight back.</p><p>"Did you glamour him to drug me and rape me, Doctor? Because someone sure as hell did."</p><p>"You seduced him, just like you did Patrick. You're a praying mantis or a black widow spider. Love them and kill them."</p><p>"Patrick started with me when I was 8 years old!"</p><p>"I loved them! I loved them and risked my job and my reputation because of the bigotry against interspecies relationships. And you seduced them out from under me and then murdered them both!"</p><p>Dr Beaumont picked up the car and threw it. And everything went black.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*DUCKS*</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Interlude #2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I probably didn't say this when I uploaded originally because I was in catch up mode. But the Interludes are all from Eric's POV. :P And, therefore, so is this one. Thanks so much to ilovemysteries for her awesome beta work!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>That first night in the car, listening to her breathing and her heart beating, smelling her sweet scent, I felt the first stirrings of misgiving. While the file included photographs, they were stark and clinical, as was the language included within. She was the asset. The subject. The telepath. It had been easy to forget that, all along, it had been a real child that had been treated this way. That had been tortured and raped and experimented upon.</p><p>And, still, I wondered at my misgivings. It was me first, Pam second, Vampires third, the NSA fourth, and humans somewhere after that. And that was only for the feeding and fucking. And regardless, certainly it had been justified for the greater good, hadn't it? But there was a definite twinge of guilt, and I didn't like it. But I found myself softening to her.</p><p>Her mask was impressive. Occasionally it would slip, and I would catch a glimpse of the lost girl behind the look of boredom or disdain or bland humour. I understand why it was so easily missed. I think Dawson must have seen it. And I think Isabel must have been willfully ignorant of it.</p><p>The second night, when I started to touch her, I softened to her more. When we sparred, I was impressed by her skills. She was extremely fast and strong, and her endurance was impressive. She wouldn't be able to best me, but I was a thousand years old. Had I been younger or less skilled, I wouldn't have been so sure.</p><p>With her heart rate high, her body flushed, breathing heavily, her body bathed in sweat, her scent was everywhere, musky mixed with sweet. I regretted when she went to shower, but it was for the best. I wanted to fuck her and bite her and rub myself all over her. And I was starting to want to coddle her and protect her and claim her as my own.</p><p>I vowed that night to take a step back and get hold of myself. I was being reckless and foolish. Worse, I was acting like a lovesick human.</p><p>When I rose the next evening, the smell of sex was everywhere. The sun had not yet set, so I brought up the camera feeds on the computer on the desk in my bedroom. Sookie was asleep on a chaise by the pool, nude. She was absolutely magnificent. Soft mixed with hard. I reversed the feed to earlier in the day and watched her swim, cutting through the water like a porpoise. She could almost be mistaken for vampire, her stroke was so strong and fast. In fact, in many ways she was like a young vampire - strong, reckless, impulsive, with a mask hiding a deeper self.</p><p>She pulled herself from the water fluidly and seemed to glide to the chaise. I noted that her mask was still in place, and realized it would always have to be, even when she was alone, because she had been constantly monitored. Vampires could, at least, lower their defenses when they were by themselves. I wondered how she did it, as young and human as she was. How she could have lived through what she had and not only survived, but had become so strong and remained so sane. I wondered how the NSA expected what they did. Yet, hadn't I a few days before? But she had been billed as a cold-blooded killer. An out of control sociopath. Instead she was a dichotomy. Light and dark. Tough and fragile. Hot and cold. And she was the furthest thing from out of control. The hard, cold outer layer wasn't only just for show, but it was far from all of what she was. And thank the gods for that.</p><p>And then Bobby came outside, and was nearly standing over her, staring. I growled low in my chest. He ran inside and, a minute or two later, she ran in after him.</p><p>I stopped the feed and went upstairs. The sun had set. I followed my nose into her room, and the smell was concentrated here. Sookie's scent, along with her arousal. And her cum. And I smelled Bobby.</p><p>I saw red. It wasn't rational. I went out to the pool yard. I was seething. "Wake up."</p><p>I realized that she didn't smell of Bobby at all. And her room had only faintly smelled of him. I had completely jumped to conclusions. She was a healthy 18 year old who had been fed a steady diet of vampire blood. She would have dreams and get aroused and masturbate. Eventually, she would want to date…</p><p>I went inside to get hold of myself. I ran to her bedroom, and saw that Bobby had put her new bikinis in her closet. His scent was concentrated there. I went back to the kitchen and saw her new laptop had been set up, and that she was downloading… porn? With fake vampires? Sookie came in, and was obviously as angry at me as I had been a moment ago. And she had cause, at least.</p><p>I attempted to break the tension by calling attention to her downloads, but Pam did a much better job by arriving when she did. Sookie's prank was played perfectly, and her wit made me want her more. But of course, she would be a good actress after so much practice.</p><p>After Sookie excused herself, Pam said, "Holy fuck, Eric. If you don't want her, I do." I glared at her. "You do want her!"</p><p>"What's not to want? She's beautiful, she smells like sex and candy, she's smart, funny, absolutely lethal. And an absolute pain in the ass. Just my type."</p><p>"So, what is she?"</p><p>As we discussed it, I realized I hadn't heard a sound from the other end of the house in some time. We met Sookie coming out of her bathroom. She was wearing socks that she hadn't been before, but she may have had cold feet. I waited to see if she would incriminate herself, but she did not.</p><p>Pam and I went out for a much needed fuck and feed.</p><p>"My God, Eric, how can you stand it? Her bedroom smelled downright indecent."</p><p>"I imagine being between her legs while I jerk off in the shower, if you must know. But it's a terrible idea. She's… Damaged."</p><p>"Bullshit, Eric. She's no more damaged than you are. You've just had a little more time to deal with it. If anyone can help her heal, it's you."</p><p>"Except I am partially responsible for her suffering."</p><p>"Then you have a responsibility to ease it."</p><p>Damn Pam for making sense. Or me for rationalizing.</p><p>The fuck and feed did not leave me anywhere near as relaxed and sated as I would have liked. I found that my attention kept wandering. But eventually I finished and went back home.</p><p>When I took the garment bag into Sookie's bathroom, I stopped and stood at the foot of the bed and watched her sleep.</p><p>The next evening, as I had neglected to stock the bar fridge in the bedroom with blood, I had to go to the kitchen after my shower. I had gotten some bad news from the NSA, and I was distracted and wasn't even thinking about running into Sookie.</p><p>The heat in her eyes when she looked at me had me close to bloodlust. I couldn't believe how she affected me. How much she played hell on my control. Angry at myself, I lashed out at her.</p><p>She must have been as unsettled as I was, as her mask slipped completely as she fell to her knees in submission, baring her throat to me. It affected me profoundly, as did the pain and self-defeat in her eyes.</p><p>As I watched her discipline herself - no, punish herself - I realized that Sookie's harshest critic was herself. And, considering her critics in the NSA, that was saying a lot. And, yet, I found little to critique. Yes, she was impetuous, and stubborn, and mouthy, and sarcastic. I found myself admiring those traits more than begrudging them. Even when she drove me crazy. Especially then.</p><p>I hated that we had done this to her. That we had made her so unforgiving of small mistakes. And that I had set this off with my lashing out.</p><p>I felt the need to atone, too. I had planned on the date being platonic, but the more we touched each other, the more we seemed to need each other's touch. I couldn't keep my hands off of her. And when she discovered the terrorist and the plot, I had never been more turned on in my life.</p><p>We kept escalating, ricocheting off each other, the excitement of stalking our prey ratcheting up our arousal. Finally, I realized that things were spinning out of my control. And I fucked up again. I lashed out at Sookie when I was angry at myself. And Sookie somehow had blamed herself completely. Nevermind that I had licked her neck seconds before. In fact, I lashed out because I nearly bit her right there in the parking lot. I sent Ginger's address to Pam and took Sookie home.</p><p>She said that it was inevitable. That we were. I couldn't disagree. It certainly felt that way that night.</p><p>When I carried her inside, asleep, I thought about taking her down to my room, but I didn't. I also thought about curling up behind her in her bed, and only did not because of her history of trauma. I was afraid she would be upset had she woke.</p><p>The next evening started well. She allowed me to kiss her, and her mouth tasted as sweet as she smelled. I knew I was going to hear from Pam all about it.</p><p>Sookie was unhappy that I was making her wait in the car while Pam and I dispatched the terrorists. She threatened to tank the whole mission, but Pam guilt tripped her into cooperating. It was certainly more effective than my temper tantrum. I will admit now that I was being irrational, and it nearly cost me…</p><p>But I am getting ahead of myself. Sookie and I were feeding off each other again - figuratively - only now instead of our arousal escalating, it was our anger. There was no sign of submissive Sookie. This Sookie didn't feel like she was in the wrong in the least. Why had she felt so guilty the night before?</p><p>I was being a total ass. I was being irrational. And I was wrong. She would have been much better served standing guard, where she could have helped us by letting us know what the terrorists were going to do, and where we could have kept an eye on her.</p><p>The Crown Vic was equipped with police locks on both sets of doors, and we locked her in the car. I wanted to keep her safe. Worse, I didn't want her to see what I did with the terrorists, even though intellectually I knew that she would see it through the eyes of the terrorists, anyhow.</p><p>Pam and I went to the warehouse. Pam took care of the humans while I went for Khatami.</p><p>"Northman. I'm going to enjoy turning you to ash."</p><p>I grinned at him. "Good luck, Farhad. You'll need it." I flew at him and ripped at his throat with my teeth. Had he expected something more civilized? I drew a stake to finish him when I heard the crash. My head turned at the sound and Khatami was up and away, swaying in a defensive stance a dozen feet from me, blood soaking the front of his shirt. "Pam! Come!"</p><p>It was an order. We left Khatami, injured and nearly defenseless, and allowed him to escape. I flew back to the car and saw Isabel stalking Sookie, who was lying in a bloody heap on the ground. I saw the moment Isabel scented her blood. I flew to her as fast I could, beating Isabel by seconds. I hissed her away and cradled Sookie to my chest. I was beyond speech. She was unconscious, and I was getting ready to bite into my wrist when Pam caught up.</p><p>"Eric, let me heal Sookie. You get Isabel." But I hissed Pam away as well. She rolled her eyes and went for Isabel as I bit into my wrist. Of course, Dr Beaumont took to the sky when Sookie was no longer attainable, and got away. After I had given Sookie my blood, I tended to her wounds. I tried not to notice how good she tasted.</p><p>When I was nearly through, Sookie's eyes opened, and I nearly staggered at the weight of her emotions. Fear. Pain. Panic. Confusion. That they were this strong through a simple blood tie… How could she stand it? It was remarkable how many traits she shared with a newborn vampire. I hadn't felt anything like this since shortly after I turned Pam. And a maker's bond is so much stronger than this.</p><p>I had given a handful of humans my blood over one thousand years, before the revelation, when I needed to have their complete control. It was nothing like this. Sookie's eyes darted around for a few moments in alarm, but soon she had once again succumbed to unconsciousness.</p><p>I dropped my car keys to the pavement, gingerly picked her up, and took to the sky, leaving Pam to deal with the Crown Vic. When I got her home, I took Sookie downstairs to my bed. I laid her head in my lap and stroked her hair and tried not to think about how fucked I was.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Creature Fear</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey guys! I wasn't going to upload this until tomorrow, but meh. AND I got Chapter 18 done, so I guess there will be 3 updates next week, too! Yay! Next one on Sunday. I haven't done anything on YnB in a few days, so I will likely work on that over the weekend if the muse is nice. And maybe I should do housework... Nah. Thanks to my beta ilovemysteries for being awesome.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I woke up in an unfamiliar room in a bed with my head in Eric's lap. He was stroking my hair and looking down at me. He smiled. "Good morning, Sookie."</p><p>"What happened?" My voice sounded raspy and small.</p><p>"Isabel. She threw the car. You weren't buckled in, and you went through the windshield when it hit a tree. When we heard the crash, we came. Isabel got away. Pam chased her, but Isabel can fly."</p><p>"Vampires can fly?"</p><p>"Some can. Like me." The grin. "But Pam cannot."</p><p>"Why didn't you chase her? Didn't you know she could fly?"</p><p>"I did know, but I had to stay with you. You were gravely injured. I had to give you my blood. You were dying." He was still stroking my hair.</p><p>"I thought you didn't give out your blood."</p><p>"I don't give it out to anyone. But you're not anyone. You're very special. To me."</p><p>"Why didn't Pam just give me her blood?"</p><p>"I'm much older than Pam and my blood is much much stronger." I thought he was done speaking. He stroked my hair some more. "And because you're mine."</p><p>My brow creased and I tried to get up. "I'm still mad at you. What do you mean I'm yours?"</p><p>"Sshhh." He held me down gently, and then kept stroking my hair after I stopped struggling. "As you said, Sookie, it's inevitable. And I don't blame you for being angry with me. I'm angry with me, too. I was an asshole."</p><p>"A high handed asshole."</p><p>"That too."</p><p>"A high handed patronizing asshole."</p><p>"Sookie…"</p><p>"No, Eric. You made me feel incompetent and insignificant. Like I'm weak and fragile and can't take care of myself. Like you don't trust me to do what I have been trained almost my whole life to do. You made me feel like shit."</p><p>He sighed. "I'm sorry."</p><p>I got up slowly and sat across from him with my legs folded.</p><p>"It's nearly dawn. Please stay with me. There is some food and water in the bar fridge, and an ensuite bathroom."</p><p>"Eric…"</p><p>And then I realized that if he had my blood, he was able to feel my emotions. I started to panic. My eyes darted around, looking for the exit.</p><p>"Ssshhhhh."</p><p>He pulled me to him, cradled me and started to rock. I struggled at first, but it was completely useless. As strong as I was, he was a thousand times stronger. A million. It didn't matter. I gave up fighting and looked up at him, terrified that I would find pity in his eyes. I didn't, thank goodness. I closed my eyes and got a handle on my emotions and wrestled them into submission. And then I took hold of my shields, and I pulled them over my emotions. When I opened my eyes, he looked shocked, and almost afraid.</p><p>"You can't have that power over me. I can't let you."</p><p>When I struggled again to get up, he let me go. I sat across from him cross-legged again.</p><p>"What happened to the terrorists?"</p><p>"The humans are all dead. Khatami got away."</p><p>"Shit. I don't have his address or anything."</p><p>Eric shrugged. "He has many known associates. He was injured, although he has probably healed by now. The NSA is on it, and the Pentagon is on high alert. Hopefully something will turn up." He shrugged.</p><p>"If you had let me come, we would have ended the whole plot."</p><p>"I know, Sookie. I get it. I fucked up."</p><p>I crossed my arms and hmphed at him. "Isabel was in love with Quinn. And Furnan. She blames me for seducing them away from her and then killing them. She called me a black widow."</p><p>Eric wrinkled his nose. "She was with weres?"</p><p>"And that right there was one of the problems. Stupid bigotry like that. You're better than that, Eric."</p><p>"Am I?"</p><p>I shrugged. "I think so. I hope so. I think you could be. Anyhow, she didn't glamour Quinn to rape me. Who did?"</p><p>"I don't know."</p><p>We sat and looked at each other.</p><p>"Please, Sookie. You can leave if you want to. I won't make you stay. But it really would make me feel better. I… I find that I'm not comfortable with leaving you alone right now. I know that might make you feel small…"</p><p>I could tell saying that had cost Eric. He didn't want to feel vulnerable, either.</p><p>I sighed. "Ok."</p><p>I used the bathroom and drank a bottle of water and changed into one of Eric's t-shirts over my panties. I hadn't eaten much that day, but I didn't think I'd be able to choke anything down if I tried. He was lying in bed, and I laid down next to him. He was wearing a pair of blue silk boxers. He slid his arm under my neck and pulled me to him so I was cradled against him. He smelled my hair, a long slow breath.</p><p>"Do I really smell different?"</p><p>"Oh yes. Sweet and delectable and intoxicating. And you taste incredible. Like spun sugar and sunshine and sex."</p><p>I looked at him, confused. He held me closer again.</p><p>"Vampire saliva contains coagulants and antibacterial properties. It cleans and heals cuts and prevents infections. I needed to tend to your wounds. And the blood was already spilled; no point in letting it go to waste." He grinned at me. He kissed my forehead. He kissed my nose and then my eyelids. He looked in my eyes and waited for my assent before he kissed my mouth. I gave it to him. I opened my mouth and he stroked my tongue with his and then sucked on it. He pulled the elastic out of my hair, and plunged his fingers into it.</p><p>"Sookie, I want you. There isn't time tonight. But…"</p><p>I wrapped my arms around his neck and he rolled onto me.</p><p>"Please. I need to feel you. To know that you're alright. Let me feel your emotions."</p><p>I couldn't do that. I opened my legs and wrapped them around him instead. There was nothing between us but the t-shirt, which was pulled up to my waist, and satin and silk. He was kissing me again, and we were moving rhythmically against each other. lt felt incredible, and I was already starting to get close. This was as close as I had ever come to being a normal teenager, dry humping her boyfriend in his bed. Never mind that he was a vampire and my NSA handler and I had just drunk his blood because I'd nearly died after the car I was in was thrown into a tree.</p><p>I pulled my mouth from his. "Does it hurt?"</p><p>"What, my lover?"</p><p>"Being bitten?"</p><p>"Yes… and no. I can be very gentle. And during sex, the little bit of pain makes the pleasure feel incredible. I understand it is extremely erotic, and the endorphin rush very pleasurable. I promise it will feel nothing short of amazing."</p><p>I bared my throat to him. I was teetering on the edge. He licked my throat hard and paused. "Please." I didn't know why, but I needed him to. Then he sunk in his fangs. When he bit me, I came, and I let down my shields to him.</p><p>When I came back to myself, he was stroking my face and whispering to me in a language I didn't understand. I opened my eyes. He said, "Thank you."</p><p>I didn't answer. I kissed him and turned around in his arms so his front was pressed against my back. The wet spot on his boxers soaked through the back of my panties, but I didn't mind. I pulled my shields back over my emotions and his arm closer around me. I found that being in control of it was enough. Sharing was ok on my terms.</p><p>Eric kissed my neck, my shoulder, my ear. He pulled me tighter against him. I sighed in contentment and fell asleep in his arms.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, Asset Management was originally sort of inspired by my love of the TV show, Chuck. Not that AM is anything like Chuck. Well, except for maybe Chapter 13's 'stay in the car'. :P Anyhow, one of the best scenes in the whole series features the Bon Iver song Creature Fear, and the lyrics from the first chorus just fucking fit perfectly with this chapter, so I couldn't resist:</p><p>So many foreign worlds <br/>(So relatively fucked) <br/>So ready for us <br/>So ready for us, <br/>The creature fear.</p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Awakening</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So. We have one super-powered horny telepath with a belly full of vampire blood, plus one somewhat sexually frustrated and hungry vampire with a serious case of the I want yous, plus one big comfy bed. What does that equal again...? 😬🍋🍋🍋</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was strange not being able to tell the time of day by the light in the room when I woke up. Eric had left the light on in the bathroom with the door cracked. He was lying next to me propped up on one elbow with his chin and cheek in his hand. He was staring down at me. I felt strangely shy. "Hi."</p><p>He smiled and stroked my cheek with his free hand. "Hello."</p><p>"What time is it?"</p><p>"Just after 10:00."</p><p>"Shit, Eric. You've been awake for an hour and a half." I tried to get up.</p><p>"Ssshhhh…" I stopped struggling. "No, I've been awake for longer. I can wake before the sun sets at my age. I'm fine. I've just been watching you."</p><p>"How old are you?"</p><p>"Oh, pretty old." He leaned down until his lips were almost on mine. There was a question in his eyes. His hair was loose, and I reached up and smoothed it behind his ear. I met his eyes for a long moment. I was frankly terrified. I let down my shields and let him feel it, telling him what I couldn't ever say out loud - I'm scared. Please don't hurt me. He closed his eyes until I closed myself off again.</p><p>His smile looked sad as he met my eyes again. "I won't hurt you, Sookie."</p><p>He looked like he meant it. I wanted to press him. I wanted assurances that he meant that he wouldn't break my heart, not that he wouldn't break my pelvis, but that was far more vulnerable than I was willing to get.</p><p>I gave him one last pleading look and then kissed him. We weren't touching anywhere but our lips until I melted against him. I had felt him against me last night - boy, had I - and against my stomach at the club, but we had never really touched each other, almost anywhere. I stroked his back, and then moved my hands around to the front, to his chest.</p><p>Eric pulled his mouth away from mine and scraped his fangs across the pulse point in my neck. He sucked hard without biting, and then rasped, "I need to feel your skin against mine. Please."</p><p>Oh my god. I had never been this turned on. I mean, it had only been a few days since I'd started even getting turned on. But still. I pushed him away and sat up. I pulled his shirt off of my body and threw it on the floor. I started to pull down my panties, but he growled, so I left them on. It didn't frighten me. In fact, I felt myself throb more for him, and wondered if he would do it again, but maybe up against my clit. I noticed that he'd lost his boxers at some point. I also noticed that he was massive. "Jesus fucking Christ." It was said in total admiration. He was exquisite. I licked my lips.</p><p>"I feel exactly the same way about your breasts. Come here, lover. I need you."</p><p>I was in his arms. We were once again on our sides facing each other. He kissed me, softly at first, but it quickly deepened into something that was curling my toes and drenching my underwear. His hands finally found my breasts, and he was rolling and pinching my nipples in a way that was driving me crazy. Eric pulled away from my mouth and trailed his nose down to the crook of my neck and took a deep breath, taking in as much of my scent as he could. He growled again, so low I wouldn't have been able to hear it without the vampire blood. He licked a line from my collarbone to my earlobe, and then used his mouth and tongue and teeth, sucking and nibbling and kissing everything in between. It felt incredible, and I was in a haze of endorphins, but I needed more.</p><p>I rolled us onto my back and put my hands on either side of Eric's head and pushed him down. Of course, I wouldn't have been able to budge him if he didn't want to be budged. But he obliged me and nipped and sucked and licked and kissed everywhere I moved him. He paid rapt attention to each breast, nibbling and suckling on one nipple, and biting and feeding, just a taste, from around the other. I moved him down my stomach, and he licked around the rim of my belly button, and dipped his tongue inside.</p><p>When I pushed him down further, I finally met some resistance. Of course, Eric acted completely innocent, as if his head was a planchet, my body a ouija board, and some unknown spirit was pushing Eric's head - and my hands - where they weren't supposed to go. Namely, just about everywhere but between my legs. But he lapped at my right thigh and gnawed on my left hip, and dragged his nose across the crease of my pelvis, sniffing deeply again. "Eric. Please."</p><p>"Please what, my lover?"</p><p>Oh, fuck him. "Please, Eric. Taste me."</p><p>"Oh, I have been. Your skin is every bit as delicious as your blood. If somewhat less filling."</p><p>He grinned, of course, and his eyes were twinkling like he was up to no good. Which was 100% accurate. This was such a bad idea. Was I really going to do this? Did I trust him enough to open myself up like this to him? Especially after last night? I was still pissed about that, right? I needed to either say fuck it and keep going, or end this right now before I got really hurt again. I didn't think I was strong enough to survive losing anything else. How much could one person take?</p><p>I took a deep breath and blew it out. And then another. If Eric knew I was having a major crisis lying here, he didn't let on.</p><p>"Fuck it. I want you. Fuck me now."</p><p>"Well, first things first, lover." My hands were still on his head, and he finally settled between my thighs. Eric said, "Watch me." He ripped off my panties, but then his eyes rolled back in his head and then closed when he finally swiped across my center with his tongue. I didn't think it was what he had in mind, but it sure turned me on. It took him a few seconds, but he finally got back to business. He made a long low sound as he licked and lapped at my pussy. It was not quite a growl, but also not quite a purr. The vibration was picked up by his tongue and it was doing incredible things to my clit, and when he curled two fingers into me, I screamed his name and pulled his hair. Something about the dream I'd had the other day tugged at my consciousness, but then it was gone.</p><p>He kissed me again and the taste of myself was everywhere. I let my shields down and made him feel what he did to me. He threw his head back and with his mouth open and his fangs long in his mouth, illuminated by the strip of light from the bathroom, it made him look like the horror movie monster he kinda was. It sent a thrill up my spine. "God, you're beautiful." I reached up and touched his face and threaded my fingers through his hair and pulled him back down to my mouth.</p><p>He slid into me slowly. At first, I tensed up, and bad memories threatened to ruin the whole experience, but I made myself relax and pushed all of the bad memories away. Eric pulled back, looking concerned, so I leaned up again and wrapped my tongue around his fang and both of us soon forgot.</p><p>He made love to me slowly and gently the first time. He kissed me all over my face and neck and chest, stroking my hair and whispering to me in several languages. I understood some, but not most.</p><p>I was close to cumming again, and he pinched my nipples and ground his pelvis into my clit, and when I was just ready to fall over the edge, he bit my neck and came inside me. I saw stars.</p><p>After I went to the bathroom and cleaned up a bit, I laid in his arms and we talked. He told me a little about himself, including his age. Holy shit. I told him about growing up in Building H, if you could call what I did that. He told me some stories from his Sheriff days, and I wondered that I had now met four people - well, four beings - in the past week or so who all used to live in the same little corner of Louisiana that I came from.</p><p>As Eric was talking, I realized that I was staring at him, and really had no idea what he'd just said. He was telling another story, and his face was so expressive. He was smiling, and my stomach was full of butterflies and I was sure at that moment I would have followed him right off a cliff.</p><p>"Earth to Sookie." He laughed at me and booped my nose with his finger.</p><p>I sighed happily. "You are just so devastatingly gorgeous and perfect. And you're this big badass vampire. But then you laugh, and sometimes you just have the most adorkable smile, and it somehow makes you even more perfect. And it makes my stomach just flip flop all over the place."</p><p>I really couldn't believe that I'd said that out loud. But I found that I kind of liked that I'd said it. I'd never really been able to be myself outside my own head before. A little with Tray. A little with Daddy and Gran. But not really. Not like this.</p><p>He scowled at me. "I am not adorkable."</p><p>"No, you totally are." I leaned over and started kissing and sucking on his chin and neck. He pretended to be mad for a little while, but when I started sucking and biting on his nipples, he forgot to pout. Eric rolled onto his back and I spent a long time acquainting myself with his body.</p><p>Lafayette from the Building H cafeteria fancied himself a stellar cock sucker. I decided to give his method a roll. I licked and sucked on the head, and then swallowed his huge cock down to the base. His eyes rolled back in his head again, and he buried his fingers in my hair. I guess Lafayette knew what he was talking about. Well, thinking about, anyway. I bobbed my head, swallowing him over and over again. I could tell he was getting close, but I wanted him again.</p><p>I pulled away and threw my leg over him, straddling his waist, and positioned myself. I slid down onto his cock and slowly started rolling my hips. I put his hands on my breasts and he sat up and started sucking and biting one while pinching and rolling the nipple of the other.</p><p>I started speeding up. I was riding him hard, and I needed him, I needed more. I was so close, moving so fast. My brain kind of felt like it was short circuiting. Eric cursed low, and then bit my shoulder, and I lost myself. My control slipped, and as I came, I latched onto Eric's neck and bit.</p><p>It was incredible. The blood was cold and thick and sweet in my mouth, and I sucked hard and swallowed, again and again. Eric was still rumbling away. Menacing? Content? I couldn't tell, and was mostly out of my head enough not to care too much. He let go of my shoulder first, and his mouth was bloody, and I needed to kiss him, to mingle the blood together in our mouths the way it was in our bodies. I kissed him hard and our blood tasted like copper and springtime.</p><p>What the fuck was that? I slowly came down and realized I'd taken his blood again. Without permission. I had needed it. Craved it. I guess technically, I was an addict, although through no fault of my own.</p><p>I started to panic again. Eric gathered me up in his arms, laid me down, and hushed me. He started rubbing my back soothingly, but soon he was caressing my ass and legs and shoulders, and he was nuzzling my neck, and then sucking on it.</p><p>"Sookie, I'm going to warn you now, that if you take my blood again, we will be permanently bonded. I… I won't have the resolve to stop you in the moment. I want it too much. That was…" He shook his head, as if to clear it.</p><p>I had my fingers in his hair again. "Was that bloodlust?"</p><p>"Yes, I'm afraid it was. If it happens again, let me feel you. I'll tell you for sure."</p><p>He rolled me onto my back and was sucking on one nipple while pinching and pulling on the other.</p><p>"Should I worry about becoming a vampire?"</p><p>He sucked hard on my nipple and then let it go with an audible pop. Oh, shit, that was hot. "No. Maybe lay off the shakes for a few days. My blood is much stronger than anything else you've had, and I felt no warning when you took my blood. You shouldn't really need any more for quite some time."</p><p>He was kissing my neck again, and eased into me. "Are you fucking me again to distract me so I won't freak out?"</p><p>"Yes. But I also find that I very much wanted to fuck you again."</p><p>"Oh good. Me, too. Fuck, you feel amazing." He really did.</p><p>"So do you. You fuck like a vampire, but you're warm and soft like a human, and taste so much better." He was sucking on my throat again, using his teeth now and then, and I felt like a big warm puddle of happy horny well-fucked goo.</p><p>"Oh. Is that good?"</p><p>Eric laughed, and couldn't seem to stop for a minute or two. "Yes, lover. That is very very good."</p><p>We were kissing kind of slow and sloppy and he started moving his hips faster, fucking me with long, deep, hard strokes. He reached between my legs and started circling my clit with his thumb. Soon, my abdomen started to tighten, and I lowered my shields so he could feel me cum. He cried out, again in a language I didn't understand.</p><p>"Mmmm… If you yelled that in Mandarin, I could understand it a little better."</p><p>He laughed and rolled onto his back. "I'll remember that for next time."</p><p>I rolled against him, throwing my left leg over his. I played with the hair on his chest. "Thank you. I… I didn't think I'd ever really be able to stand being touched. It's really nice not always being alone. You've changed my life. So, thank you." I couldn't meet his eyes. I had seriously underplayed the situation. Life-changing doesn't even come close. He was my goddamn saviour. He'd saved me from captivity. He'd saved me from a lifetime of solitude and loneliness. He'd saved me from torture, abuse and neglect. He'd saved my life.</p><p>But he hadn't just changed my life and saved my life. More than anything, he'd given me a life. A real one. With choices and freedom and conversation and companionship. It was a complicated life, a weird one, but really, it was mostly a happy one, at least so far. I had never ever been happy. And I was absolutely 100% head over heels in love with him. I was so royally fucked.</p><p>He wrapped the arm under my head, his left, around my shoulder and pulled me closer to him. He kissed the top of my head and sighed in contentment. I snuggled in closer when my stomach rumbled. He laughed. "I think you need to eat."</p><p>"Too comfy."</p><p>"Come on. Let's go. You must have something."</p><p>I grunted, but got up and threw his t-shirt back on. He pulled on the jeans he'd been wearing. Between the two of us, we could have almost made a whole outfit.</p><p>In the kitchen, I sat on the counter with the rest of the fruit platter beside me. "Does food still taste good to you?"</p><p>He shrugged. He was leaning against the fridge, facing me. "We cannot eat food or else we get sick."</p><p>"If I ate a strawberry and then kissed you, would it taste good?"</p><p>"I don't know. I used to enjoy beer very much, but second-hand Bud Lite kisses are quite disgusting."</p><p>I laughed. "Oh, I'm sure." I ate a huge strawberry and crooked my finger at him. He stood between my legs, and I kissed him with a lot of tongue. He closed his eyes and kissed me back. "Good?"</p><p>He kept his eyes closed. His jeans looked more than a little tight in front. "Yes. More."</p><p>I tried the watermelon next. It was very juicy, and a little ran down my chin. I ate two pieces and kissed him again. He moaned into my mouth and then licked the juice off my face. "More."</p><p>Next was pineapple. He really liked that one. He wasn't quite so struck on the honeydew, but he seemed to really enjoy the cantaloupe.</p><p>I tried some grapes, and after he kissed me, he bent down and started sucking my nipples through the fabric of my shirt - his shirt. My hands were buried in his hair. "Eric. I need you again."</p><p>He let go of my breast and pulled down his jeans just enough to free himself and slammed into me. The counter was the perfect height. My head was leaned back against the upper cupboard doors, exposing my throat to him, and he licked and sucked and scraped as he snapped his hips into me over and over and over again, and then finally bit. It didn't take long before we were both totally spent and no longer hungry.</p><p>"Wow."</p><p>He chuckled, with his face still buried in my neck. He kissed it. "You can say that again."</p><p>"Ok. Wow."</p>
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<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Mandarin Lemon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Howdy! I have been neglecting my life again, and therefore will be likely be a posting fool. We did get slammed with 40+ cm of snow yesterday/the night before, so I do have that excuse. So, tentatively, AM 17 today, YnB 10 tomorrow, then AM on Thursday, YnB on Friday, AM on Sunday, YnB on Monday and AM on Tuesday. After that, I'm only going to commit to AM on Thursday. I hope. I still have to write that one. :P But I'm working on it! Thanks to all of my wonderfully fantastic reviewers and followers and stuff. And thanks to ilovemysteries for betaing 4 chapters last night. :P Whoops. She is a total rock star.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eric and I were settling into a routine. Oh, who was I kidding? I basically spent my days waiting for him to wake up, and my nights getting fucked into oblivion. We started out doing useful things, but just kept getting sidetracked. Cooking supper turned into getting screwed on the counter or island or table. Writing NSA reports turned into him getting his cock sucked under the desk, me getting bent over the top of it, or me riding him in his chair. Sparring? Well, sparring was just really sweaty foreplay. Sweaty for me, at least. Showers took fucking forever now. Emphasis on the fucking.</p><p>I moved into his bedroom after the stakeout because neither one of us really wanted the other out of our sight. I didn't go to sleep until after dawn now, so we could spend more time together.</p><p>I had spent the day swimming laps and relaxing by the pool. When the sun was getting low in the sky, I grabbed a quick bite to eat and ran downstairs and climbed into bed to wait for Eric to rise.</p><p>He was lying on his back, and I stripped off my clothes and snuggled down against him, with my leg thrown over his and my head on his shoulder. I sighed contentedly. He was so nice and cool, and it was hot as hell outside, even this late in the day.</p><p>The first thing I felt stirring was against my leg. But then he wrapped his arm around me and kissed the top of my head. "Mmmmm… You smell like the sunshine. Good evening, lover. How was your day?"</p><p>"Long. Lonely. Celibate."</p><p>He snorted. "Yes, it's been a whole, what? Fifteen hours? Poor baby."</p><p>I kissed him, and all of a sudden, fifteen hours seemed like a long time to him, too, even though he'd been dead for the day for all but a few minutes of it.</p><p>He rolled me onto my back and started licking me all over. The taste and smell of sunshine drove him crazy, and I got to reap the rewards of that. And lying in the sun was hardly a steep price to pay.</p><p>This felt amazing, but honestly... Sucking on my kneecap just wasn't getting it done. "Eric. Please."</p><p>By now, I should know better. "Please what, my love? The other leg?" He started on my left ankle.</p><p>"Please get your stupid fangs up here and kiss me."</p><p>He laughed, but did as he was told. Good vampire.</p><p>After we made love, Eric said, "We have to go to Fort Meade tonight to do the debrief. I have been putting them off, but they won't wait much longer." The stakeout was almost a week ago, and we hadn't really left the house since. Pam had dropped by once, but only stayed a minute before she and Eric got pissy with each other and she left.</p><p>I hated the thought of going back there. I held him a little tighter without realizing it, and he said, "It will be OK, Sookie. You won't have to stay long, and I will stay with you the whole time." And he kissed the top of my head again. Man, he was sweet for a big scary dead guy. And I was almost used to letting myself be vulnerable now and then. Weird.</p><p>When we went upstairs, Pam was sitting on the couch in the living room in downtime. "Oh, hey Pam. " I sat down next to her and she not-so-discreetly sniffed me.</p><p>"Mmmm, Sookie. You smell absolutely perverse."</p><p>"Thanks, I think. How's stuff?"</p><p>"Oh, you know. What do they say? Living the dream."</p><p>"You neither live nor dream. Hello, Pam."</p><p>"Master."</p><p>Apparently they were still at it. She couldn't have sounded much colder and dryer if she was sitting on an igloo wrapped in a towel.</p><p>"Are you coming with us to Fort Meade?"</p><p>"Yes. My presence has been requested." She shot Eric a very dirty look. This was going to be a fun drive.</p><p>"So, what in the fuck are you guys so pissy about?"</p><p>They looked at each other, and seemed to have a whole ugly conversation without saying anything.</p><p>"Eric didn't appreciate me expressing my opinions about his behaviour the other evening."</p><p>"Seriously? Eric, you behaved like shit the other night. Stop being such a dick."</p><p>"Thank you, Sookie. Very helpful." He was even more annoyed now, but hey. I was Team Pam on this one.</p><p>Pam grinned at me, "You are my favourite human ever. Now, how about a little taste…"</p><p>"Pamela!"</p><p>"Oh, fine. Are we leaving soon? I want to get this over with. I have a date later on tonight. With twins! I think they're either gymnasts or figure skaters. Romanian. I think they weigh about 150 pounds between the two of them. And so bendy!"</p><p>There was a new Crown Vic in the garage. Pam sat in the back seat this time. I think it had more to do with their fight than my status, but Eric kept trying to feel me up on the drive, so maybe not.</p><p>I slapped his hand again as it traveled up under my skirt. Awkward. Hot, but awkward.</p><p>"Cut it out, Grabby."</p><p>The next time he tried, I grabbed his hand and laced my fingers with his. So, of course, in a minute we were both feeling me up.</p><p>"So, Pam. What did you say that pissed Eric off so much?" He pulled his hand away like my panties were on fire. To be honest, if he hadn't stopped touching me, they might have started smouldering, Pam in the back seat or not.</p><p>"Well, one, he wasted the chance to see you in action." She licked her lips. "And then he let Khatami get away. And C, he was greedy and wouldn't let me have a taste, so Dr. Tigerhumper got away, too. I told him how much he sucked for all of that."</p><p>"Oh. So the same things I bitched him out for. Cool."</p><p>Boy. He looked mad. "You totally deserve it, by the way."</p><p>"I am aware."</p><p>Pam and I chatted while he stewed, and he kept both hands on the steering wheel for the rest of the drive. But I could tell the tension between them had dissolved quite a lot by the time we parked underneath Building H. And, when he grabbed my hand right after I let myself out of the car, I knew we were good, too. I even got a forehead kiss in the elevator, and a smile from Pam that felt a lot like a thank you.</p><p>It was weird being back in Building H. Thank goodness I didn't have to go back up to my room. I never wanted to see it again. Eric, Pam, and I told everything that happened to a couple of analysts I didn't really know, plus Andy and Noam. I didn't leave out the part where I was trying to break out of the car, either. I didn't give two shits if I was written up for insubordination. And I'd like to see Eric try to punish me for it. It would hurt me as much as him, but the Eric Sookie Nookie Express wouldn't be leaving the station for a good long time.</p><p>True to his word, Eric didn't leave my side the whole time, even for his debriefing. Being Project Lead has its perks, I guess. There were a lot of raised eyebrows in the building about us holding hands, and everybody made an excuse about why they had to walk by as word got out, but nobody said a thing out loud. They thought a lot of them, though. And did a whole lot of imagining us having sex. Having seen it in the mirrors in the dojo, reality was way hotter.</p><p>Dr. Beaumont was apparently in the wind. After she went psycho on me, she just disappeared. The rumour mill was going crazy because they had no idea why she attacked me, just that she had. Their guesses were all over the place, but nobody thought that she had been in love with a were. Stereotypes…</p><p>But now seeing that me and Eric were obviously together, their brains were in overdrive. It was like beating a hornet's nest with a hockey stick. They were dying to know more, and they were going to make up what they didn't know for sure.</p><p>I wondered how long the truth would take to get out, now that we'd spilled our guts? Probably not very long. I kind of wished I got to hear what people thought of that. There was only one other Supe in the room during the debriefing, and Noam was flat out disgusted about Quinn and Beaumont. I just didn't get bigotry at all. Hell, I was in love with a fucking NSA agent, and I generally hated those fuckers.</p><p>There was no news on Khatami, either. Hopefully he would have to start from scratch, but wouldn't he just be able to glamour any old Tom, Dick, or Harry to carry the bombs into the Pentagon? I hoped he was spotted and captured soon.</p><p>I was very glad to get the fuck out of there when we were through. Pam wasn't going back to the car with us, so she kissed both of my cheeks and then goosed my butt before we got off the elevator. Eric barked, "Pam!" and she left. But there was a twinkle in his eye when he said it, and she winked at me before she took off.</p><p>When we got on the highway, I unbuckled my seatbelt and leaned over the gearshift. I unzipped Eric's jeans and then looked at him, biting my lip. His fangs ran down and he unbuttoned his pants and pulled himself free, giving himself two quick strokes for good measure.</p><p>I reached over and did my own stroking. I really couldn't get enough of him. I wanted him all the time. I leaned down and licked him from the base of his cock to the tip, and then swirled my tongue around the head.</p><p>"Fuck, Sookie."</p><p>"Not when we're driving. I'm afraid this is just going to have to do."</p><p>I swallowed him whole. He groaned. He put his hand on my head, and I let him set the pace, pushing my head down so he was pretty much fucking my mouth.</p><p>It really didn't take long. He cried out and shot his cum straight down my throat. And I don't think we went under 100 MPH the whole time.</p><p>"Fuck, you're amazing." His fangs were down, and I wondered that I found them so fucking sexy. I wanted to lick them and suck them, and then have them buried in my inner thigh.</p><p>"What are we going to do for the rest of the night?" I knew what I was shooting for.</p><p>He reached his hand up under my skirt again. This time I didn't stop him. As a matter of fact, I opened my legs a little for him.</p><p>"Panties off."</p><p>"Yes, Master." I was kidding, but the low growl told me all I needed to know about that. I was certainly on board to play, so I pulled my underwear down and off. But, seriously, if he thought I was ever going to be a true submissive, he had another think coming.</p><p>He slid his fingers through my slit and then circled my clit. "Eric?"</p><p>"Yes, my love?"</p><p>"Find somewhere to pull the fuck over."</p><p>"Anything you say."</p><p>He teased me with his fingers as he drove, and took the very next exit. We went past the gas stations and fast food places and used car lots until we were out of the commercial district and into a more secluded area. He turned onto a dirt service road and stopped just a few feet in. He was out of the car and opening my door in an instant.</p><p>His cock was still out, and my skirt was still hiked up with my panties on the floorboards. He lifted me up, slammed the door, and slammed me against it. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he plunged into me.</p><p>"Fuck, Eric. Oh my god."</p><p>That whole it's not the size of the boat, but the motion of the ocean thing? When you've got a fucking aircraft carrier to work with, and it's riding the surf of the greatest fucking ocean of all time, it matters. A canoe wouldn't do. Believe me. No, I didn't really have a whole lot to compare it to, but if all sex was like having sex with Eric, nobody would ever do anything else. There would be people fucking in the streets. Which is technically what we were doing right then, as a matter of fact.</p><p>He kissed me, fucking me hard against the side of the car. His hands were under my ass, holding me up, and I had mine in his hair, where they belonged.</p><p>We both fell over the edge together. He cried out, "Wǒ ài nǐ."</p><p>Holy fuck.</p><p>I love you. In Mandarin.</p>
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<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Distractions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey hey hey! It's Thursday! Time for an update! I'm sure all of this happy mostly angst-free stuff is just going to keep on keeping on forever, right? That trip to Dallas is just going to be a great big fluff fest! Right? RIGHT?!? :P (We call that foreshadowing in the biz. Really blatant and clunky and terrible foreshadowing. Also, lying. I think it's called that, too. And I don't belong to a biz. People should really stop letting me write author's notes.) Thanks, as always, to ilovemysteries for being the greatest.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I woke up a few weeks later with a scream stuck in my throat. Eric was dead in bed beside me. I shook him and slapped him and screamed at him until he muttered something and turned over. Thank goodness.</p><p>I couldn't remember anything about it other than the last few seconds before I woke up. I was standing right next to the bed with one of my stakes, and I…</p><p>I got up and ran to the bathroom and puked. It had been so fucking real. He had gushed and then just… flaked apart. I threw up again, and then used the bathroom and washed my hands and face and brushed my teeth and climbed back into bed. I couldn't bear to leave him after that.</p><p>When he finally opened his eyes, hours later, I said, "I love you."</p><p>He kissed my forehead. "I love you, too, Sookie. What is the matter?"</p><p>"I just had a really bad dream."</p><p>"Well, my love, would you like to be distracted into forgetting all about it?" He kissed me, but after a minute, I pulled away.</p><p>"Um. I don't really feel sexy at all right now. I'm sorry."</p><p>Well, that wasn't like me at all. He looked concerned. "Do you want to tell me about it?"</p><p>"I don't know." I took a deep breath. "I dreamed that I staked you."</p><p>"Well, I understand why you're upset, but Sookie… You know that you would never stake me. And I would never let myself be staked."</p><p>"You were dead for the day. Defenseless. It seemed so real. You just gushed blood and then started to… dissolve almost, but dry. Like the way burnt logs can kind of flake apart in chunks."</p><p>His forehead wrinkled. "That is actually a fairly accurate description of what happens when a vampire is first staked. But I'm sure you've seen it depicted in a movie or overheard it in a thought and have since forgotten."</p><p>I didn't really think it was likely, but I also didn't want to talk about it any more, so I kept my mouth shut and shrugged.</p><p>And then he kissed me again. Apparently, he was in the mood, regardless of my disturbing dream. Or maybe he just wasn't that disturbed by it. I was. It was replaying over and over in my head. But getting it off my chest had definitely helped, and I thought that maybe I could be distracted after all. I certainly would love to be.</p><p>And speaking of my chest, his hand was on it, his thumb stroking over my nipple. "Your breasts are magnificent."</p><p>"So you've mentioned. Your ass is spectacular." I wiggled my arm under him, grabbed his butt with both hands, and squeezed.</p><p>"As is yours. I just might sink my teeth into it later."</p><p>It turns out, he did. Eventually. After he made love to me slowly, and then took me hard and fast from behind. And it really did drive the dream almost right out of my head.</p><p>After we had worn each other out, I said, "Eric, can you please teach me to drive today?" I figured the busier the better for tonight. I didn't want to have too much time to think.</p><p>"Certainly. That is an excellent idea. We also need to pack; we are going to Dallas for a mission tomorrow night."</p><p>Dallas. It had been a long time since I'd been that far south. I didn't know whether I was looking forward to this or not. "What's the mission?"</p><p>"Potential arms deal. Saudis. Meeting a contact at a Dallas Cowboys football game." No, I was definitely looking forward to this.</p><p>"Oh, sweet! I haven't watched a football game in 11 years! This is going to be awesome! Who are they playing?"</p><p>"Well, I'm glad that one of us is looking forward to it, at least. I believe they are playing The Saints."</p><p>"No fucking way!"</p><p>"Yes fucking way. And are we going to discuss the fact that you finally told me that you love me?"</p><p>Oh, shit. I had wanted to say it. I had even tried, over and over again. But the words always seemed to stick in my throat. It wasn't that he was more mushy than I was, or even that he meant it more than I did. I was pretty fucking sure that wasn't even possible. Unfortunately, he was just stronger than me. I was a great big clucking fucking chicken. I had managed a 'me too'. Once.</p><p>"Actually, I was really hoping not to."</p><p>"Aah. Of course. Well, I was hoping to. Or, I suppose, I could take hearing it again, at least."</p><p>"Ok, Mr. Needy. I love you. I've been in love with you probably since the night I met you, but it took three or four nights to actually admit it to myself. There. Are you happy now?" I crossed my arms and sulked. This shit was scary and I kind of hated it. Or maybe I hated how much I loved it.</p><p>"Yes, lover, I am very happy now." He kissed me until I had no choice but to be all warm and fuzzy and happy and melty inside. Damn him.</p><p>"I expect to hear it again, once in a while."</p><p>I stuck my tongue out at him and he laughed and tickled me until I said it a few more times. Jerk.</p><p>We went out to the garage, and he got into the driver's side of the Crown Vic. I got into the driver's side of the Corvette. Neither one of us closed the door.</p><p>"Oh, no."</p><p>"Oh, yes."</p><p>"No, Sookie. I am not teaching you how to drive in my Corvette."</p><p>"No, you totally are."</p><p>"I most certainly am not."</p><p>"If you do, you can do me on the hood..."</p><p>"Sookie."</p><p>"Me all naked and splayed out in the moonlight…"</p><p>"This isn't going to work."</p><p>I sing-songed, "I might even let you do butt stuff."</p><p>He laughed out loud at that. "As tempting as that offer is, my sweet, I am going to have to decline."</p><p>"But automatics are boring. I know what I'm doing, Eric. I've been watching people drive from inside their brains since I was born, practically. And my Daddy always said that I should learn to drive on a standard." Plus, Noam liked to race cars, and had even done some stunt driving back in Israel. I really wanted to test drive that little bit of knowledge.</p><p>He sighed. Oh, man. That was a good sign. He said, "Get out. I will be driving until we get somewhere with fewer… obstacles."</p><p>Oh, brother. But I wasn't going to complain! The thing is, he just liked to spoil his girls. Pam liked expensive clothes and shoes and jewelry, and the occasional opportunity to maim and torture. I liked getting my own fucking way.</p><p>He drove us out to an old airstrip. Ok, I certainly wasn't going to run into anything out here. He was convinced I was going to demolish his baby. On the other hand, I had a lot of road to work with. And no potential cops or traffic or anything. I could open it up all the way.</p><p>"2001 Corvette Z06. 620 Horsepower?"</p><p>He raised his eyebrow. "Yes..."</p><p>"Top speed of 170 miles per hour?"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"0-60 in four seconds?"</p><p>"Yes. Sookie, how do you know all of this?"</p><p>"Noam is a car guy. Now scram. You're in my seat."</p><p>"Sookie, we need to go over a few things first."</p><p>He blabbed on and on about the minutiae of driving. If he wasn't so hot, I would have been bored stiff. As it was, I mostly just imagined us screwing our brains out. Man, apparently I was just like everybody else. Filthy.</p><p>Finally, he moved and I got to sit in the driver's seat. He was being blabby again, but I listened and got my seat and mirrors all adjusted.</p><p>"Ok, Sookie. Push down the clutch, turn on the engine, and shift the car into first gear. Then slowly let up on the clutch until the car starts to roll. Then you can give it a little gas."</p><p>I looked at him and grinned. I pushed down the clutch, turned the key, and we were fucking off. Zero to sixty in four seconds. Hot damn!</p><p>It didn't take much longer to get it up to 130. Eric was losing his fucking mind, and I couldn't stop laughing like a lunatic.</p><p>I slammed on the brakes, put the car into a spin, downshifted, and we were soon flying back in the other direction. I skidded to a stop within inches of where we had started. "How'd I do, Boss?"</p><p>"Sookie… How in the fuck did you know how to do that?"</p><p>Oh, shit. I did not think this through. "As I said, Noam is a car guy. He was showing off when he drove me across the complex once, and I read his mind."</p><p>The lie just poured out. I almost felt like I was watching myself from above, as if it wasn't really me who was saying it. I had, of course, downloaded Noam's personal car and driving databases and mental manuals into my brain. But those manuals were my secret, the results of hours upon hours of research. I hated that I was keeping this from him, but my gut was apparently screaming at me to do so. And I was frankly scared not to listen to it. This smooth lying almost autonomous voice had saved my ass over and over again. And it had even helped me pass a polygraph once. Self-preservation was a hell of a thing.</p><p>"Can you actually drive at a reasonable speed and obey traffic laws?"</p><p>I drove down the airstrip and back, displaying my knowledge of the fundamentals. I even did a perfect three point turn over top of the skid marks from last time. He quizzed me a little, on rules of the road and traffic signs and parts of a car, and I was able to answer everything to his satisfaction.</p><p>"Alright. Time to get out,"</p><p>"Come on, Eric. Let me drive back! I have a license as part of my cover. I even have it with me."</p><p>"Yes, you can drive home. But I believe I was promised… What was it again? Oh, yes. Butt stuff on the hood first."</p><p>Oh, shit. "I said I might let you do butt stuff on the hood. And you declined! But we don't have any lube here, anyhow. What a shame."</p><p>He pulled some out of the glove compartment and wiggled it at me, with a great big grin on his face. Well, damn.</p>
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<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Regrets and Regression</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey everyone! I am so super excited about this upcoming week, guys. Three great big chapters to post. Over 10,000 words. Things are really going to start picking up. And, if you are reading The Young and the Breathless? That one is sort of going to go crazy this week, too. At least two updates there, including a chapter that's almost 5000 words long. Hopefully I'll be able to post 3, but I NEED to work on AM, so maybe not. But those 5 chapters I've promised are all written and betaed (thanks, ilovemysteries! You are the wind beneath my wings) and I have chapter 22 on the go right now. :D If I had to wager a guess, I would say that both will end up somewhere in the vicinity of 30 chapters long. </p><p>Thanks so much to my reviewers and kudosers and subscribers and bookmarkers. I love you guys.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I woke up way too early and had far too much time to kill. I had already packed, so that was out. And I actually had lots of things to pack now; Pam had gasped in horror at the state of my closet weeks ago, and had been cramming shit in there willy nilly ever since. I was actually glad; she had great taste, and I didn't have to worry about it. I had never bought my own clothes before and it didn't really bother me to keep going with the flow. Pam kept threatening me with a girls' shopping weekend in New York down the road, and I was actually looking forward to it. But, really, Pam was the first real friend I had ever had. And she was awesome.</p><p>I was hungry, so I took the Crown Vic into town for coffee and doughnuts, just because I could. I thought about taking the 'vette, but I didn't want to press my luck. I enjoyed my breakfast at a picnic table at a park off of Evans Parkway. There were teens playing basketball, little kids on the playground, and a few people running on the path along the perimeter. Someone was walking her dog. I hadn't petted a dog in over a decade.</p><p>This is what normal people do. They get in their cars and drive places and do things. Alone or with their friends or family. They're mostly free, aside from their jobs and other obligations. They buy coffee and doughnuts and eat them in the sunshine at the park. It felt nice. Weird, but nice. When the lady with the dog walked past, I asked if I could pet him. He was a collie, and I knew he was friendly and his name was Dean because I'd checked his owner's head. She stopped and chatted with me for a minute while I gave the dog pets and scratches.</p><p>I decided to take the opportunity to try out my glamour, or whatever it was. I felt kind of bad because she was so nice, and had such a cute dog, but hey. Carpe diem and all of that shit. And look at me, throwing my brief visit to Normal right out the window.</p><p>"You should buy your dog a cone at that ice cream truck."</p><p>She laughed, "No way! It wouldn't be good for him."</p><p>"No, you really should. One ice cream cone won't hurt him." I gave her a nudge.</p><p>"Yeah. One ice cream won't hurt him…" And she wandered off toward the ice cream truck. The dog followed along behind. I felt a pang of guilt, but then I felt a little better about it when she bought herself a cone, too, and flirted with the ice cream guy. They made a date for next week. Everyone got a happy ending.</p><p>Feeling kind of like a million bucks, I drove back home. And it was home now. Or more accurately, Eric was my home. And now that the dam had burst, I could even tell him I loved him now and then.</p><p>We were leaving at first dark and taking a charter. Vampires getting stuck on runways or in the air after the sun rose was a real problem when there were flight delays. And travelling in a coffin was a pain in the ass that required a ton of paperwork, and often transport to a private location to climb out when travelling. Wheeling a coffin into a hotel raised more than a few eyebrows. Things were going to be so much easier after they went public. At least in regards to travel.</p><p>I had never been on a plane before - at least when I'd been conscious. I assumed they'd flown me from Louisiana to Maryland or DC a decade before, but of course I didn't remember it. I was so excited I felt like a little kid (who couldn't read her parents' minds to see what they'd bought her) at Christmas.</p><p>I didn't know what to do with myself to pass the time. I decided to just lie out in the sun. Eric and Pam would enjoy it, too. Probably I should have exercised, but I just wasn't feeling it. I promised myself I would try to find some kind of balance between slothdom and obsession. Tomorrow. Or when we got back.</p><p>I read my book and daydreamed and enjoyed the beautiful day and the anticipation. When I was roasting hot and felt my eyelids get heavy, I went downstairs to our room to snuggle up against Eric's cool, hard body. We kept the house at 72, so that's what he was, and my nipples tightened at the change in temperature when they pressed against him. I kissed his shoulder and his chest and fell back to sleep until he was kissing me awake.</p><p>I rolled onto my back, pulling him along with me. His mouth moved to my neck. I said, "Do we have time?"</p><p>"If we move quickly, yes. I love rising with you asleep in my arms."</p><p>"Oh my god." He had pulled my leg way up over his shoulder and was already inside me, so deep, tapping my cervix over and over with quick, short strokes. I felt like I was falling apart in seconds. I wanted to bite him. Needed to bite him, and I let down my shields to him like he'd told me to and turned my head away, willing my mouth shut.</p><p>And then I realized what a mistake it was. We really hadn't thought this through at all. His eyes glazed over and he bit my shoulder. Well, at least now I knew the answer. And then his bloodlust was feeding mine as much as mine was feeding his. And I knew that he wanted me to bite as much as I wanted to.</p><p>He would be able to find me more easily. Well, with Beaumont after me, wouldn't that be for the best? What if I couldn't shield him from a bond like I could with a tie? I just didn't think that would be the case. Or maybe that was the bloodlust talking.</p><p>My ability to reason and rationalize was very quickly melting away. Eric's short, quick, deep thrusts had become almost frenzied, and my shoulder burned with pain as the skin began to tear. I lost hold of my restraint and I grabbed his chest with my teeth and bit hard.</p><p>Oh, shit. I felt like Alice, falling endlessly down the rabbit hole.</p><p>When I came back to myself, someone was pounding on the bedroom door.</p><p>Pam yelled, "I don't know what in the fuck that was, but a little warning would be nice next time. I have to fly all the way to Texas in these panties. If we don't miss the goddamn flight."</p><p>I felt Eric's amusement bubble up. "It's a government charter, Pam. They're paid to wait." Oh, shit. I had forgotten about this aspect of a blood bond. What in the fuck had I gotten myself into?</p><p>I didn't think I had regained the ability to speak yet. I peeled myself off of him and padded into the bathroom to pee and try to get myself cleaned up a little. After I used the bathroom, I stood in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection. I was a mess of cum and blood and my hair was a tangled fright. Fortunately, the torn fang marks in my shoulder were already almost completely healed.</p><p>Eric came in behind me, "I'm sorry we don't have time for a shower, lover. We are running far behind now." He leaned down and kissed where my neck and shoulder met, and then licked the smeared blood from my shoulder. I closed my eyes and probed our new connection. He was feeling content. Happy. Fulfilled. I was frankly terrified, and a confused and somewhat regretful mess. And he obviously still wasn't able to feel me at all. At least there was that.</p><p>After making myself at least somewhat presentable, we headed out to Ronald Reagan International to catch our flight to Dallas.</p><p>I tried to push my fear and preoccupation aside and enjoy the day. I was used to packing up all of my emotions except anger or boredom. It felt natural to me. Doing the same thing with happiness or contentment was a whole other animal altogether. They weren't masks that I wore easily. And I had no practice. I hadn't even known what happiness had felt like a few weeks ago. Not really. Brief moments of pride or satisfaction in an otherwise miserable existence hardly counted.</p><p>Eric had gotten over his preoccupation enough to notice mine, and he was worried and kind of hovery. I could tell he didn't much like it that I could feel him and not the other way around. Too bad. I was in my head enough for the two of us. I didn't need him in there, too.</p><p>I finally started to calm down when we settled down in the cabin of the jet. Eric must have noticed, because he relaxed a bit, too. It was just the three of us, thank goodness. There were seats that faced each other, so Eric and I sat across from Pam.</p><p>"Sookie, make sure to get really close to Stan tonight. Maybe rub up against him a time or two."</p><p>Eric rolled his eyes, but the corner of his lip was twitching a little. And he didn't object a bit.</p><p>"Ok. What am I missing?"</p><p>"Stan Davis is the Sheriff of Texas's area 9, which includes Dallas. He's a total nerd." Pam bit her lip. Well well well. This was interesting. "Since you smell like sex and vampire bait, I was hoping you would... chum up the water, so to speak."</p><p>"Wow, Pam. That is the least sexy thing I have ever heard you say, hands down." Or anyone else, maybe.</p><p>"Really? It aroused me significantly."</p><p>I laughed out loud. Pam was really an excellent diversion. "So, Eric, why are you so onboard with me chumming Stan Davis's waters?"</p><p>Pam cut in, "Oh, because you smell like Eric, inside and out. On top of the sunshine and sweetness. He is going to just love rubbing it in to every vampire he comes across that you are his."</p><p>Eric closed his eyes and inhaled, and then grinned. Oh, brother. "Vampires will be able to smell that we are bonded. They will smell my seed inside of you. Every Supe will want you, but they will know that you are mine and mine alone."</p><p>"Jesus, Eric. Possessive much?"</p><p>"Very much so. Yes. Thank you."</p><p>I rolled my eyes. "Well, they say the first step is admitting you have a problem."</p><p>"Actually, lover, I have no problems at all."</p><p>Well, except for Beaumont and Khatami and my inner meltdown.</p><p>I enjoyed the flight after I climbed out of my own head. Especially when Eric followed me into the bathroom and fucked me hard on the counter.</p><p>"Now that we are bonded, you can stop drinking the shakes and just feed from me when we make love. I will be able to tell if you are getting too much." He was really excited about that. And I guessed I kind of was, too. At least I didn't have to worry about doing it accidentally now. Plus it felt incredible. And the shakes were really fucking gross.</p><p>There was a limousine waiting to pick us up after we landed. Swanky. I climbed in next to Eric, leaving Pam to sit across from us next to a vampire that had to be Stan Davis, judging by the glasses and short sleeved cotton plaid button-down and Dockers. I noticed him scenting the air and would have rolled my eyes if it wouldn't have been rude.</p><p>"Stan, this is my… asset, Sookie. Sookie, this is Stan, the Sheriff of Area 9." Ouch. After all of that nose-rubbing he claimed he wanted to do, he was going to go with our business relationship? While I wasn't thrilled about being the prized possession to show off to his little vampire friends, I liked thinking about our working relationship even less. I mean, I thought that was the least important of what we were to each other. The NSA were my captors. My torturers. They were the villains in my own personal story, even if I was now one of them myself. It wasn't like I'd been given a choice. I tried to separate Eric from them in my mind as much as possible. Leaving my shields up, I pushed my feeling of annoyance at him, and he frowned a bit. Apparently, he had gotten that message loud and clear.</p><p>Strangely, Stan offered me his hand, and I placed mine in his. He kissed the back of it and said, "Charmed."</p><p>"Likewise." I smiled politely.</p><p>The vampires chatted, and I looked out the window at the lights passing by. Eric rubbed my hand with his thumb, but I was still annoyed and ignored him. I figured letting him hold my hand was me being conciliatory enough. Nobody spoke to me, so I kept my mouth shut.</p><p>After 20 minutes or so, we pulled into the driveway of a huge house on a postage stamp-sized lot. It was beige brick with white trim. Stan's nest. We were going to stay here so Eric and Pam didn't have to bunk down in a hotel bathtub. Judging by the voids inside, the place was chock full of vampires. Lots of humans, too.</p><p>Eric got out first and offered his hand to assist me. I gave him a dirty look, but let him do it anyway. As if I couldn't do it myself. He, of course, kept hold of it as Stan escorted us inside. Eric was upset and confused. So was I.</p><p>"Stan, if you don't mind, Sookie is very tired…" What a crock of shit. I had slept half of the afternoon and into the evening, after a strenuous day of eating doughnuts, petting a dog, and lying in the sun. I pushed annoyance at him again. I wanted some privacy, sure, but I didn't really want my weaknesses to be used as an excuse, either.</p><p>I said, "I'm sorry. It's just been a really long day."</p><p>"Oh, of course. Come. I'll show you to your room. Sookie, we can make introductions tomorrow."</p><p>He walked us deeper into the house and opened a door to one of several bedrooms on the main floor. It was large and lavish with a four poster bed and attached bath. "Eric, will you be out again tonight? I have a few…" He cut his eyes to me, "...people I would like to introduce you to."</p><p>"I think not, Stan. I need to make sure Sookie is settled, and it is approaching dawn."</p><p>"Very well. I will have someone bring in your bags and leave them outside your room. Until tomorrow, then."</p><p>Pam was sort of hovering outside the door, and Stan caught her eye and smiled as he was leaving. They had gotten along like gangbusters in the car, and things were looking good for Pam getting a little geek action. I gave her a thumb's up behind Stan's back, and she winked at me. I wasn't angry at her.</p><p>After Eric closed the door behind them, he turned and looked at me. "What is the matter, Sookie? And how in the hell can you do that?"</p><p>I crossed my arms. The first question could wait. "Do what?"</p><p>"Manipulate the bond as well as a vampire. On your first night, no less."</p><p>I shrugged. "I don't know, Eric. I can do just about whatever the hell I set my mind to, seems to me."</p><p>"The longer I know you, Sookie, the more I see that that is, in fact, the case." He didn't seem as thrilled about it as I was. Not at all. "And now how about telling me why you are so upset."</p><p>"Why did you introduce me as your asset?"</p><p>He blinked. "Because you are my asset."</p><p>"Of all the fucking things I could be to you, you choose to define me as that?" I spat the last word out at him.</p><p>He was really confused now. "I'm afraid I don't understand."</p><p>"Eric, the NSA lied to my parents so they could steal me from my home. They basically kept me caged like an animal for most of my life. All of the Geneva convention bullshit that's supposed to keep the government from treating terrorists and political prisoners like shit? That apparently didn't apply to me. I was raped and tortured and worse. Pardon the fuck out of me if I don't really want that to be the defining factor of our relationship."</p><p>"Sookie…"</p><p>"It's not like Stan is with the fucking FBI or the CIA. He isn't a fucking colleague. We're not staying here because it's a convenient NSA safehouse, right?"</p><p>"Well, no, but we are here on NSA business. And since Stan is Sheriff, and I used to be one, he has agreed to assist by offering a vampire-friendly place to stay."</p><p>I rolled my eyes. "Whatever, Eric. And I suppose there's extra vampire kudos for you for getting into the asset's pants. Well fucking done. Way to be the big sexy vampire. Should I brag that I can't be glamoured, too, and that you had to seduce me old school?"</p><p>Boy, I was pissed. But now he was starting to join the party. His teeth were clenched together and he said very quietly, "Actually, lover, I didn't want to advertise that fact at all. And I would never glamour anyone to have sex with me. I told you I do not approve of rape." That lover sure sounded sarcastic, though.</p><p>"Bully for you."</p><p>"Look, whether you like it or not, we both work for the NSA. I am your handler, and you are my asset."</p><p>"Well, I don't fucking like it. And, since I just work for the NSA now, I fucking quit."</p><p>I waited for the answer I knew was coming.</p><p>"You can't." He didn't sound quite so angry now. And was that a twinge of guilt? What a surprise.</p><p>"Oh, really? I thought that I was a ward of the state when I was a minor, but a simple employee now that I'm an adult. I certainly haven't signed any contract yet, even though it's been weeks since we had that discussion."</p><p>He looked away. All the fucking answer I needed. "Go make your fucking introductions, Eric. And get the fuck out of my sight."</p><p>"Sookie, you are being paid now. And there will be a contract..."</p><p>"That will be compulsory. I get it. I'm every bit as much a prisoner as I ever was. Go. And find someplace else to sleep. I don't fucking want to see you again tonight." Or really ever, but that wasn't happening.</p><p>And then I fought really dirty. I let down my shields. And then I pushed all of my hurt and anger at him, too. He closed his eyes and almost seemed to sway. Good.</p><p>"Get. Out."</p><p>He left without another word.</p><p>I was half tempted to just leave, but where would I go? Plus, I was microchipped like a fucking dog. That reminded me of how free and normal I had felt in the park this morning, drinking a coffee and petting a collie. Now I felt more like a prisoner than I ever had, only in fancy bed linens and in a different state. And this sure as fuck wasn't normal.</p><p>A few weeks ago, this was exactly what I had expected to be - an NSA bird in Eric's gilded cage. But a lot had happened in that time. And I hated the idea that maybe things hadn't changed as much as I'd thought. At least not for Eric.</p><p>I really wanted to scream. What I most wanted to do was go back in time to the night Eric came to get me and keep my fucking distance. Caring hurt too much. Being happy was too dangerous.</p><p>I undressed and climbed into bed. I had never felt more alone in my entire life. I scanned the house, and it was so full of life (and death) that it just made me lonelier. I pushed my loneliness and grief at him, too, wherever he was. I felt his sorrow in return. Good. I hoped it hurt. Fuck knows I did.</p><p>I tossed and turned, in too much pain to get comfortable. I finally dozed off sometime close to noon.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Feeling Dead in Dallas</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This insomnia is kicking my ass, so I guess I'll go ahead and post in this the middle of the night. Hopefully it will pass soon as my mind was too full of mush to do any writing yesterday at all. Not good. I will make no guarantees for next week aside from at least one AM and YnB each. Hopefully there will be more. Especially considering. Mwahaha! (Future you will understand).</p><p>And I'm going to be super cryptic and say I ALMOST used the EH, but went with the IE. But the EH is totally implied.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When I woke up, Eric was sitting on the foot of the bed. I was on my side facing the wall, and he was behind me, on the side of the bed closest to the door. He must have spent the day in another room off of this hallway; the sun hadn't even set yet. According to the clock on the bedside table, there was almost a half hour to go.</p><p>"I did not ask if you were alright with the bond."</p><p>"No, you didn't."</p><p>"You were upset."</p><p>"Yes, I was."</p><p>"You were shielding, but I could have asked. You were… distant."</p><p>"You told me to let you feel it when I went into bloodlust. I did and it sent you into bloodlust. And you were hurting me. I could have stopped myself, but not after all of that."</p><p>"You trusted me."</p><p>"Yes. I did. It wasn't all your fault, but…"</p><p>"But I am the one with experience. The one whose blood created the bond. The one who told you to let me feel it. The one who hurt you."</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>"And then I hurt you again. Badly. Last night in the limousine."</p><p>"You could say that."</p><p>"I have apologized more in the past few weeks than I did in the millennium before. But, Sookie... I am sorry."</p><p>"I thought we meant a hell of a lot more to each other than that, Eric. You can be damn sure that I wouldn't introduce you to anyone as my handler. I'm not a fucking show dog."</p><p>"Sookie, please look at me."</p><p>I didn't want to face him. I didn't think I could. But he sounded like he was begging, and Eric didn't beg. I sat up and looked at him, crossing my arms.</p><p>"I love you."</p><p>"That's playing really fucking dirty."</p><p>He sighed. "I'm not playing, Sookie. Dammit. I hate this."</p><p>"Join the club."</p><p>"My gods, you are impossible!"</p><p>"Now you're starting to get it. Jesus Christ, Eric, it took you long enough. You only had a file a foot thick warning you. You should have known exactly what you were getting into going in."</p><p>"Bullshit. I have read every word more than once and you are nothing like the girl in that file."</p><p>"Bullshit. I am the girl in that file."</p><p>He put his head in his hands. "I don't know what to do to fix this."</p><p>"Maybe it can't be fixed. Maybe I'm just too fucked up to do this."</p><p>He looked up again, and he looked pissed. "That's bullshit, Sookie. You are incredibly resilient. Stronger than anyone I've ever met. And as you said, you can pretty much do whatever the hell you set your mind to."</p><p>Fuck him for throwing that back in my face. And I felt anything but strong right then. He got up and knelt on the floor next to where I was on the bed. He took my hands. Fuck him again. I felt my resolve crumbling.</p><p>"Sookie, please. I love you. Please just…" His voice trailed off.</p><p>I sighed. "I love you, too."</p><p>I was just drained. I didn't want to fight any more. I pulled my hands free and scooted over and laid down facing him. He undressed and slid into bed beside me, wrapping me in his arms.</p><p>"I'm sorry it took me so long to say it."</p><p>"I know, Sookie. I am sorry, too. For everything." He kissed my forehead.</p><p>I wrapped my arms around him, too, and we just held each other for a little while. I was glad that the football game wasn't until the next night. I couldn't face it that day.</p><p>He licked my cheeks and I realized that I'd been crying. I felt hollow, and the emptiness ached.</p><p>"Can we just stay in here for a while?"</p><p>"Yes. I told Stan last night that you were unwell. I think he thinks I'm… I believe the expression is pussy whipped?"</p><p>"Well, if the motorcycle boot fits, or whatever."</p><p>He snorted and squeezed me a little tighter, kissing my forehead again. I sighed and just kind of melted into him. My pain and resentment didn't really go away, but they deflated, at least.</p><p>"I guess you're the laughing stock of the vampires now. I'm sure we had quite the audience last night. And today, too, for that matter."</p><p>He said, "Most are just rising now. I just felt Pam, and she is older than many. As for the rest? I don't give a fuck." And then he whispered, "Stan was aware of your reputation. Stan and Isabel are close. Or at least they were. She used to belong to this nest. They were warned not to hold you to vampire standards. That the rules for the government are different. And that, due to your volatility, you must be treated… delicately. And frankly, lover, they respect me more now. I was credited with your politeness, which was very unexpected, as well as for having to put up with you." He kissed my nose. Hmpf. And then he whispered, "But they are also incredibly jealous. Everyone wants you."</p><p>I whispered back, "Yeah yeah yeah, and I'm yours. I don't know what in the fuck they were surprised for. I am polite, for the most part. Unless someone really pisses me off. And I even think I'm mostly fair. Why does everyone always think the worst of me? Even when I was little, everyone thought I was creepy, crazy, or both."</p><p>"I don't. Pam doesn't."</p><p>"No. I know. But just about everyone else?"</p><p>"I know. And that's why I said that you aren't like the girl in the file, Sookie. They didn't know you at all. Not really."</p><p>"But those pictures are me. Those scans and test results and the work I put in. The accomplishments. Good things said about me, too. That was all me. And even the terrible things they did to me. You can't just erase what I've been through and what I've done. It's who I am."</p><p>He sighed. "I understand that. I wasn't trying to discount your experiences and accomplishments. But you are so much more than what is in that file. And, despite what Stan and the others think, that had nothing to do with me."</p><p>Well, I had definitely changed because of Eric, but I also had never been the monster they had thought me to be. I wondered how much of the negativity trickled down from Dr Beaumont.</p><p>I wanted to get this conversation over with. "What about all of the top secret shit they all overheard?"</p><p>He shrugged. "Vampires overhear top secret information all the time. We can glamour it from whomever we want. Top secret doesn't really apply to vampires. And the humans wouldn't have been able to overhear. You usually aren't a screamer, lover. At least not when we fight. Usually, the angrier you are, the quieter you get."</p><p>I didn't like it that the top secret information they all knew about was me, but since I was one of the two talking about it, I guessed that was my own fault. I sighed and looked up at him. He put his forehead against mine, and we stayed like that for a minute or two.</p><p>I said, "I hate feeling so alone. Please make me feel not so alone."</p><p>And he kissed me, and he pushed love through the bond. I closed my eyes and pulled him onto me. He was sweet, and made love like he was trying to prove himself to me. And I guess he did. By the time we were through, I felt whole again, although maybe still a bit cracked.</p><p>When I opened my eyes, I saw Eric through a pink haze.</p><p>"I'm sorry lover. I'm afraid I… wept a little, and it ran into your eyes." He licked my face clean of tears for the second time that night. Being around vampires is kind of weird sometimes. He sounded surprised, though. And I was, too.</p><p>"Pretty sneaky, Eric. What was that, the vampire version of rose-tinted lenses? Getting on my good side by any means necessary, eh?"</p><p>He laughed and kissed me. "Sookie, I am just grateful to see your smile again."</p><p>We laid there together for a long while, just talking and trying to heal what had been bruised and almost broken. I still felt raw, but I was feeling like I could probably face people soon. Plus, I was starving. I hadn't eaten since we were on the plane the night before.</p><p>We got a quickish shower with minimal hanky panky, and walked through the main part of the house and into a huge kitchen.</p><p>Stan and Pam were sitting there talking with a couple of other vampires. They both looked well-fucked, pink, and awfully friendly, and I wondered what kind of shenanigans they were up to last night. And then I decided I didn't really want to know.</p><p>"Oh, hey Pam. Hi everybody."</p><p>Eric said, "Sookie, this is Bill and Farrell."</p><p>Bill looked like an extra from Gone With The Wind (I saw that with Gran), and Farrell looked like an extra from Urban Cowboy (I saw that one with my Mama). "Nice to meet you."</p><p>"Sookie, I understand that you are from Bon Temps, Louisiana originally. As am I. A little before your time, of course. The name is Bill Compton, and I lived all my life in a home by the Sweet Home Cemetery. Before I went off to war, at least."</p><p>"No shit! my grandparents Mitchell and Adele Stackhouse - she was a Hale before she married - lived on just the other side. Old Jessie Compton lived in your old place when I still lived at home." Home. I hadn't thought of Bon Temps as home for a long while. I'd made myself stop when I realized I was never going to be allowed to go back.</p><p>"Yes, Jonas Stackhouse lived in that home last I remember."</p><p>I sat down next to Bill, but sort of turned facing him. Eric sat across the table from me.</p><p>I'd met another… whatever… from Northern Louisiana, and not just Shreveport this time. That was one human, one Were, and three vampires so far. It was like the universe was trying to tell me something. Next I'd probably run into my father's dentist. Or my third cousin, twice removed. "Well, Bill, it surely is a small world. Have you been back?"</p><p>He was a handsome man, and his accent made me a little homesick, although it was quite antiquated. I was smiling at him, really enjoying the conversation. At least until Bill started trying to glamour me. I punched that cocksucker in the nose as hard as I could. Stan and Farrell gasped. Pam snickered. Eric dropped fang. And Bill gushed blood out of his nose like a faucet. He stood quickly, bending at the waist a hair, and I was coated in his blood from my eyes to my lap. Eric was over the table with his hand around Bill's neck and Bill flattened against the fridge in a second.</p><p>"So, I guess the cat's out of the bag. I can't fucking be glamoured, so don't even fucking try me." I did, in fact, have stakes in my garter holster as well. I wasn't an idiot. "Eric, I guess I'm going to get another shower while you're dealing with this. Pam? Will you come with me, please?</p><p>"Wouldn't miss it for the world."</p><p>She linked arms with me, despite the blood (or because of it?), and off we went. We met a couple of other vampires on the way, and my candy-scented Carrie impersonation was a real hit with the fanged set. Unfortunately, I hadn't become telekinetic yet, though. I was happy to have my bodyguard, even if she had a lady boner in her mouth, too. But that was just Pam. She stayed in the bathroom with me and I good-naturedly slapped away her grabs and laughed off her leers. I just wanted someone to talk to while I was cleaning myself off. Look at me being all open and girl talky.</p><p>While I was in the shower, I said, "I'm sure I swallowed some of this. And got it in my eyes and nose, too, for that matter. I'm sure it's all the same."</p><p>"Well, no, actually. Not the same. There is no influence with a transfer through a wound or mucous membrane. No blood tie. It will heal, and that's about it. Although if it went up your nose and down your throat, maybe. The real magic is in the consumption."</p><p>"You licked your lips after you said that, didn't you?"</p><p>"Guilty."</p><p>Of that, and so much more, I was sure. "Thought so. What will change with the amount that I did consume?" I didn't know if things were different now that I was bonded to another.</p><p>"He will be able to feel your emotions."</p><p>"Oh, I can shield my emotions."</p><p>"From Eric?" She sounded genuinely shocked. I was shocked that he hadn't told Pam in all of this time.</p><p>"Yes. Even with the bond. I almost always do. They're shielded by default. I can push emotions at him now that we're bonded, though, even when I'm shielding."</p><p>"Jesus fucking Christ, Sookie. It took me years to learn how to do that. Decades. And I'm a goddamn vampire. Can Eric find you through the bond? Bill might be able to locate you through a blood tie, even with such a small amount. At least over short distances."</p><p>"To be honest, I have no idea. We're almost never apart. I think when I went out for coffee yesterday was the first time we were more than 50 yards away from each other in weeks, and he was dead for the day."</p><p>I climbed out of the tub, got dried off, and wrapped the towel around me. "God, Pam, you're impossible."</p><p>"No, Sookie. You're impossible. Eric would stake me twice. But at least I get to enjoy the view, and the rest of the... Sookiesperience."</p><p>"That was really terrible, Pam."</p><p>I got ready quickly for the second time that night. I was still starving to death. We went back out to the kitchen. It was just Eric and Stan at the table, now. There was no ash on the floor, so I didn't think Bill was finally dead yet. I sat down on Eric's lap and leaned against him. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my head. I was still feeling needy. Sue me.</p><p>"You must eat, lover."</p><p>Stan barked an order in a Slavic language that wasn't Russian, and a human came bustling into the kitchen. She fixed me a plate of food from a couple of chafing dishes and bustled out, only nodding when I said thank you. I tried to get up to move to another seat while I ate to be polite, but Eric held me in place, so I happily stayed put. It was sausages and scrambled eggs and potatoes with onions and peppers. Not terrible. I would have nearly cried in delight a few months ago. I guessed the humans who lived here must stay on vampire hours. Or maybe it was just breakfast for dinner night.</p><p>I was starting to feel almost human again, or whatever the hell I was, and I felt Eric relax right after I did. He squeezed me a little tighter in acknowledgement. I thought maybe we were going to be OK. I really was exhausted, though, and didn't complain at all when Eric used me as an excuse to go back to our room this time, even though I'd barely been out an hour, all together. And I really needed to start eating better. This was ridiculous.</p><p>We got undressed and climbed into bed as soon as we got back into our room. I snuggled up against him and sighed in absolute contentment.</p><p>"What happened with Bill?"</p><p>"We came to an agreement. He wouldn't look at you ever again, and I wouldn't make him eat his own penis."</p><p>"Hey. I've done that one. Copycat."</p><p>"Believe me, lover, I had you beat by hundreds of years."</p><p>"Ok, but were you twelve? And did you use your teeth?"</p><p>"No. But to be fair, I wasn't going to this time, either."</p><p>"Touché."</p><p>He rumbled amusement and I felt it in the bond, too. I was happy and content again, and I let my shields down. I wasn't ready to do it full time yet or anything, but I really wanted him to feel that I was ok. Good, even. At least right this minute. He smiled and kissed me. I very quickly deepened it. I wanted him badly. I wanted to try to push all of the bad feelings from the past two nights away.</p><p>"I love you."</p><p>"And even saying it first! You're going to spoil me at this rate, lover."</p><p>"God, you're a smart ass."</p><p>He laughed out loud. "That is most definitely the pot calling the kettle black."</p><p>"Eric? Shut up and fuck me."</p><p>"Aah, Sookie Stackhouse - the consummate romantic."</p><p>I raised one eyebrow at him, daring him to keep going. I would turn over and go to sleep. At the very least.</p><p>He grinned and then leaned over and kissed the daylights (nightlights? nightdarks?) out of me. Thank goodness. It was going to significantly ruin the mood if I had to silver him or something.</p><p>We kissed for a long time, and when I pushed love and lust through the bond, he moaned into my mouth. He kissed down my neck, across both of my breasts, and down to between my legs. He pleasured me with his hands and mouth and when I was teetering on the edge of cumming, he bit my thigh while curling two fingers against my g spot. I screamed his name.</p><p>He licked the wound and then was kissing me again, his hard cock rubbing between my legs. I wrapped my legs around him, grinding myself against him. He pushed himself into me and then bit his tongue, filling our mouths with his blood. I sucked on his tongue and swallowed.</p><p>I wanted more. I rolled him onto his back and climbed aboard. I sank down on his cock and started riding him hard. When I was getting close again, I grabbed his hand and bit his wrist. He yelled out and was thrusting hard up into me, and I fell over the edge with him.</p><p>I fell down beside him, snuggling in fast and close. "I love you, Eric." I kissed his chest. I realized my shields had been down for a while now. I decided to leave them be til dawn.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Cowboys and Saints</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello everybody! Are you ready for some football?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I woke up hungry and mostly feeling like myself again. It was a relief. I threw on some clothes and headed out to the kitchen. I hoped there would be coffee and something to eat.</p><p>There were half a dozen humans at the table eating. Apparently, word had gotten around about me. I had been <em>the</em> topic of conversation the past couple of days, even though I'd spent most of them in private. They all knew I belonged to Eric, and didn't like that one bit. Not the girls or the guys. He had stayed at the nest a few months before, and had been a real favourite. On this trip, he hadn't even glanced at any of them, and they were all very jealous. And they all had theories about who I was and what I was doing there.</p><p>The girls weren't even close with their guesses about me. One girl thought that I used to be Bill's and Eric stole me away from him. Gross The second girl thought Eric was here to sell me to Bill, but was having second thoughts. Double gross. And what a step down! Another thought I belonged to both Eric and Pam. A fourth did, too, but she wasn't too bright. She thought I was Eric and Pam's child. Like, vaginally.</p><p>One of the guys thought I was just Eric's very special pet. The other thought I was his prisoner, glamoured not to leave during the day. A little from column A, a little from column B, actually. The second guy knew a lot about vampires, and quite a bit about Eric, including his profession. He thought Eric was being nice to me because I was pretty and was putting out. It was a bit too on the nose for my tastes. But if Eric even thought about calling me his pet, he could suck it. Because I sure as hell wasn't going to for a long ass time. Luckily for him, he's probably big enough for it to be doable, and he doesn't even need to breathe.</p><p>I poured myself a cup of coffee and helped myself to a plateful of the stuff in the chafing dishes. This afternoon, it was bacon and waffles. Maybe the cook only knew how to make breakfast foods.</p><p>I sat down at the end of the table next to the two guys and smiled. "Hey, everyone. I'm Sookie. Can someone pass the syrup, please?"</p><p>They did, and I poured it on. They wouldn't speak to me, though. Yet they wouldn't stop thinking about me, either. I couldn't shield their thoughts while they were potential threats, so I turned down their mental volume as much as I dared and ate quickly so I could get the hell out of there. I had my politely bored face on. Yeah, I try not to let that stuff get to me, but it saps my concentration. Thoughts about me are extra loud and distracting. I wondered… "Hey, everyone?" They all turned to look at me. "Y'all can stop thinking about me now," and gave a nudge. And they did. It was kind of like I wasn't sitting there at all. I hoped one of them wouldn't accidentally mow me down in their car later because they were busy not thinking about me or something.</p><p>I hoped nobody noticed that the humans were glamoured. Hopefully nobody would ask them to do something for me. I would just play dumb, though. I'm sure as much as these people were glamoured, a little unexplained memory loss and confusion were par for the course.</p><p>I rinsed my plate and cup and stuck them in the dishwasher and went back to our room. This place was a lot more comfortable when there were vampires around, and not just people.</p><p>I got undressed and climbed back into bed with Eric. It was still hours until sunset, and we were going to be leaving shortly thereafter; we were going to miss the kickoff regardless, and didn't want to miss the potential meetup. I needed to get up in time to get ready, but I had hours to kill with my dead guy, now extra dead for the day. I sort of stretched my consciousness over the whole house, just taking in the active thoughts of the humans as they happened, and let myself drift.</p><p>When I was younger, being inundated with thoughts like this was nearly unbearable. But now I could just let the process hum along in the background, part of my brain sifting through all of the thoughts individually while the rest got on with other things.</p><p>I wondered what my mind would look like to another telepath now. Would a regular telepath, like I was as a child, even be able to read my mind, working on as many conscious processes at once as it did? Or would it take another unicorn like I was now? Hell, as far as I knew, regular telepaths were unicorns, too.</p><p>There was really nothing going on in the house with the vampires all asleep. Thoughts are generally boring and repetitive. Most people think about the same few things - sex, money, bills, their families, their jobs, their basic everyday problems and worries, and their hobbies. That's good. It's when the thoughts are interesting that bad things tend to happen. But I was hearing nothing exciting, other than the odd thought about yours truly, and only from people who hadn't been with me at the kitchen table.</p><p>For old time's sake, and to pass the time, I did research. Stan had a lot of neighbours packed close together, so I had a lot to keep me occupied.</p><p>Finally, it was time for me to go grab a bite to eat and start getting ready. Oh, fuck that. I'd wait so I could get a shower with Eric and put my hair up in a ponytail. I'd grab stadium food for supper. And maybe even a beer.</p><p>I snuggled back down until my vampire opened his eyes.</p><p>"Hi."</p><p>"Good evening, lover. How was your day?"</p><p>"There wasn't anywhere near enough vampire sex. Plus the people here are real dicks."</p><p>He laughed. "I can remedy the former, but I'm afraid the latter is out of my hands."</p><p>"That was the important one, anyway."</p><p>He certainly did remedy the former, and we had spectacular shower sex. It's one of my favourite kinds. I was just putting my hair in a ponytail when Eric kissed behind my ear and said, "I'll be back in a few minutes, my love."</p><p>I was ready for the game, so I decided to go looking for Pam. I wanted to find out how things were going with Stan. When I went out the bedroom door, there was a vampire loitering in the hall.</p><p>"Bill. I thought you weren't supposed to look at me again." I crossed my arms.</p><p>"Sookie, I wanted to apologize. It was unforgivable of me."</p><p>"You're fucking right it was. What in the fuck were you trying to glamour me to do with Eric sitting right across the table from me, anyway? I assume your nose worked before I broke the shit out of it. You know I'm his."</p><p>"Yes, I was aware that you were bonded, but I was attempting to rescue you. I think you were taken by the NSA against your will, yes?"</p><p>"I was, yes. But I am with Eric willingly. I'm his. I am in love with him, and he's in love with me. He wasn't even with the NSA when I was taken. He rescued me as</p><p>much as anything else."</p><p>"Eric Northman is not capable of love."</p><p>I laughed in his face. "How are you enjoying that blood tie? Not quite what you had in mind, is it?"</p><p>"That was an accident!"</p><p>He had absolutely aimed to get his blood near my mouth. Eric knew it. It was why he had jumped over the table. I saw it, plain as day. But he didn't know I could process so much faster than a regular old human, who would never have been able to catch it live. He didn't need to convince Eric. Only me. And I wasn't going to be convinced.</p><p>And that bit about Eric? I did not have to wonder about Eric's feelings at all.</p><p>"Nice try, asshole. What were you trying to glamour me to do? And what do you know about me?"</p><p>"I know you are Sookie Stackhouse from Bon Temps. I know that you are a telepath who was taken from your family when you were a small child, and whose parents died on their way home from you being taken. I know you killed the great John Quinn. I know you've led a very difficult life, from the time you were a little girl."</p><p>"So you went to Bon Temps and talked to people about Crazy Sookie, huh? They underestimated me as much as you have."</p><p>I had a stake pressed against the front of his shirt, dimpling the fabric. "Don't fuck with me again."</p><p>"What's going on here, lover?"</p><p>"I was just telling Bill here that, despite what he says, you most certainly are very capable of love."</p><p>Eric tsked and shook his head. "Bill. How could you say such a thing? Well, unfortunately you aren't able to feel how much I love her through our bond the way she did a few minutes ago when I was fucking her against the wall of the shower. She had her teeth buried in my shoulder, drinking my blood, while I was enjoying the sweetest nectar I've had the pleasure to taste in over a thousand years. I make sure that she knows exactly how much she means to me every day. "</p><p>"That was pretty great. I love you, Eric."</p><p>"I love you, too, my sweet. Are you ready?"</p><p>"Yup."</p><p>"I got you a gift."</p><p>It was a Saints jersey. I jumped up and wrapped my arms and legs around him.</p><p>"Whoops. Better put this away."</p><p>I slid the stake back into its holster before I accidentally staked somebody. I always wore skirts and dresses when I needed to pack concealed for a reason.</p><p>Eric was eye-fucking Bill over my shoulder. I could feel his amusement and annoyance. And I could also feel his dick. He had apparently been very turned on to see me with a stake to Bill's chest.</p><p>I kissed him hard and then jumped down. I pulled off my shirt, threw it in the bedroom and closed the door, and then put the new jersey on.</p><p>"You are the sweetest vampire in all the land." I was maybe going a little overboard, but rubbing it in was fun. Petty is one of my favourite colours.</p><p>Bill's eyes were still glued to my chest. Pam had bought the bra, of course, and she has exquisite taste, although it runs more in the French whore direction when it comes to lingerie. But a really classy one. A French escort.</p><p>I grabbed Eric's hand and kissed it. "Thank you. I love it."</p><p>And we were off. Bill was still looking wounded in the hallway when we left. Pam and Stan were already in the limo when we climbed in, and I greeted them both. They were even being touchy feely with each other a little. Just small, lingering touches. Not like my handsy vampire, who was still all over me. Something had really riled him up. Something with big sideburns, maybe. He was whispering what he wanted to do to me in my ear, and every time he "accidentally" nibbled on my earlobe or licked the shell of my ear, or just stuck his damn tongue in the whole thing, I got the most delicious goose bumps. Of course, Pam and Stan could hear everything he said, but they certainly weren't complaining. The temperature would have gone up in the car twenty degrees if they hadn't all been dead.</p><p>Pam and Stan had their fangs all the way down. Stan reached over and cracked the windows, and then rolled them down a little more a minute or two later. He said, "Eric, I don't know how you leave your bed."</p><p>"Sometimes I don't."</p><p>I shrugged. "When we get up, we just fuck wherever we happen to be." Eric smirked. It was true, after all.</p><p>By the time we got to Texas Stadium, I think I had a couple of hickeys and my panties were in danger of being cast adrift. I was still not a lover of voyeurism, but with all of his blood I'd been drinking, and as turned on as we'd gotten from the scene in the hallway, I guess it was maybe to be expected. I was, strangely enough, feeling a little embarrassed, but I was certainly the only one.</p><p>Pam and Stan got out of the car. I held Eric back. "We'll be along in a few minutes." Pam and Stan both smirked, but they made their way inside.</p><p>"I know we don't have much time, but I fucking need you right now."</p><p>He wasn't complaining. He pressed the intercom and told the driver to drive around the block a few times while I had his cock in my mouth. That wasn't going to be enough for me, though, so after a little fun, I pulled off my panties and climbed aboard. He had my jersey pulled up and my bra cups pulled down and was sucking on one nipple and pinching and rolling the other. I was riding him like he was trying to buck me off.</p><p>"Fuck, Eric. I need it harder."</p><p>I climbed off and bent over the seat Pam and Stan had been sitting in, and looked back over my shoulder. He approved. His fangs were down and he kneeled behind me and slammed on home. He was fucking me so hard, and I was pushing back to meet each thrust. His balls were slapping my clit with every stroke and I was cumming hard within a minute and a half. And when he pulled me upright and bit my neck while pinching my nipples hard and still fucking me harder? I came again.</p><p>"Lover, you are incredible."</p><p>"Back atcha, Sexy. Now let's go watch some football!" I gave him a smooch.</p><p>Eric told the driver we were ready to get dropped off, and soon we were sitting down next to Pam and Stan. I tried to ignore their flaring nostrils. It was nearing the end of the first quarter, and the Saints were winning seven zip. Maybe I'd bring them good luck. Stan and Pam were looking cozy and watching the game. I didn't really think football was Pam's cup of tea, but apparently Stan was, and that was good enough for her. Plus Pam loved to people-watch. I would sometimes pick out funny things from people's heads to tell her about them when we had a little more privacy. Stakeouts with Pam were a hoot. After the first one, anyhow.</p><p>I had never been to an NFL game. Hell, the high school games we'd gone to every Friday night during the season were bad enough for poor little telepathic me. That was no longer a problem at all, so I was resolved to just enjoy myself. Oh, right. And work.</p><p>I whispered to Eric. "We never did discuss exactly what I'm supposed to be looking for."</p><p>"No, we've been a little bit distracted, lover."</p><p>"Yeah, I've noticed. If I have to do a deep dive on all 60000 people or so, I'm not going to have much time to enjoy the game. Plus we will have to make everyone stay a while. Maybe pull a fire alarm? Or seventeen?"</p><p>"I don't think that will be necessary. They are supposed to meet in the second quarter by a vendor booth in section 118 in the upper deck. Will we need to go up there?"</p><p>"Nah. I can just keep scanning the area, and I'll be able to see what they look like from each other's brains. Unless one is a vampire. Then I can just check other brains nearby. No big." And if they're both vampires, the NSA abducted the wrong child telepath.</p><p>We figured out where the merchandise stall was located, and I kept an "ear" out while I enjoyed the game.</p><p>Eric had his arm around me, and I found myself leaning into him when I wasn't on my feet screaming at the players or the referees or the beer guy.</p><p>When the second quarter started, I kept more of my attention on the upper deck. I certainly didn't want to miss the meetup. Most of me was still Team Fuck The National Security Agency, but it would be pretty irresponsible of me to also be Team Fuck National Security.</p><p>Aaron Brooks threw another touchdown, and the Saints were up 14-3. What a shame. And there was a potential arms buy meetup going on in section 118.</p><p>"So, I'm just taking notes, here? Names, addresses, plans, stock, amounts? That sort of thing?"</p><p>"Yes. Are they in place?"</p><p>"Yup. All done. I want a hot dog."</p><p>The dealer was Alan Black, and he owned a security company that also supplied private troops to the government for overseas military operations. For an enormous fee, of course. And clandestinely sold weapons to foreign governments, as well as terrorist organizations. So he was making money on both sides of the fight.</p><p>The Saudi was a Sunni guy who, along with several hundred of his terrorist buddies, wanted to take out an assload of Shi'ites. Too bad for him that I hate genocide. I knew pretty much everything there was to know about the pair of them. They had agreed to the sale, and the buy would go down in the Laccadive Sea, 20 or so miles off the coast of Sri Lanka, in a week and a half.</p><p>By the time halftime was over, the Saints were still in the lead, I had had a couple of beers and a hotdog and some popcorn and some peanuts, and I had to pee. Eric, Pam, and Stan were having a very quiet and intense conversation, so I whispered in Eric's ear that I'd be right back and kissed his cheek before I headed up the steps to find a bathroom. Bill was headed down the stairs on the other side of our section toward the vampires, and I hoped he wouldn't notice me and change course. He didn't. I sighed in relief, and followed the sign for the head.</p><p>I was nearly there when I heard someone think my name.</p><p>
  <em>Sookie? Holy shit. If I didn't know she was dead, I would swear to God that was her all growed up. She looks so much like Aunt Linda, it's crazy! I'll have to remember to tell Gran. She'll get such a kick out of it. She sure is pretty…</em>
</p><p>He was coming right toward me. I felt like the whole world was spinning in the wrong direction or something. He smiled at me and I smiled right back as we passed each other. I ducked into the bathroom, grabbed the first available stall, sat down and put my head between my knees. I would not pass out. I tried to find my centre but it was fucking gone.</p><p>Jason. That was my brother, Jason. He looked so much like Daddy, it hurt my heart. And Gran was <em>alive</em>.</p><p>And they thought I was dead.</p><p>When I was 8, shortly after I'd been moved to Maryland, Dr Beaumont had shown me a newspaper article about the accident and my parents' deaths. Just theirs. Not mine. And she had told me that Gran had had a heart attack and died shortly after hearing about the accident. She'd said Jason had gone to live with Uncle Bartlett.</p><p>I still had hold of Jason's brain, and I looked for everything to do with that night.</p><p>He was at Gran's house. It was after supper and dark outside, raining terribly hard. He and Gran were watching TV when there was a knock at the front door. Gran got up to answer, and Jason heard a deep voice telling Gran that he was a sheriff from Caddo Parish. There had been an accident. A flash flood had swept Corbett's car off a bridge, and Corbett, Michelle, and Sookie Stackhouse were all pronounced dead at the scene. Jason, who was eleven at the time, got up from the couch and stood next to Gran, holding her hand and crying. He looked up at the sheriff.</p><p>It was Eric.</p><p>Fuck. Holy fuck. What was I going to do? I had to pull myself together. It had only been a couple of minutes, but he would come looking for me at some point. How could I keep myself sane and put myself back together and not fucking look like I was losing my mind? Because I was pretty fucking sure I was losing my mind.</p><p>He'd been in on it all along? Lying to my family about my death, for sure. What about lying to me about Gran's? Stealing me away from my family? Everything that had been done to me, and that I had been forced to do? I needed more information. I needed to read my fucking file. I needed to find out what in the fuck Eric was doing there that night.</p><p>Pulling myself together hadn't been that hard in years. But finally, after I puked a couple of times, I managed to pack up everything, slow my heart rate, and get at least some of my shit sort of held together with spit and sealing wax and desperation. Gonna have to blame it all on a bad hot dog and just try to look as miserable as possible. Surely I have a sorry I'm so sick mask floating around somewhere. At least if I'm pukey, I won't have to fuck him. But fuck, I will need to pretend. To allow contact. No more pulling down my shields.</p><p>Thank fuck I could shield.</p><p>This was going to be the acting job of my fucking life. Be so nauseated, I puke up any blood before it "heals" me, or, even better, say the thought just nauseated me too much to even try. Be sick but in love until it's dawn back in Silver Spring. And then find my fucking file and read until I know what the fuck happened. And then we would see where we were going to go from there. Thank fuck we were flying out the next evening.</p><p>But a stop in Bon Temps was in my not so distant future. And I was about 100% sure that it was going to be alone.</p><p>I left the stall and washed my hands and face and rinsed out my mouth. I looked normal, if a little shaky. I tried on a smile and that even worked. Hopefully I wouldn't just lose my shit when I saw him. I threw my stakes in the garbage can, just in case. Usually, I had an iron grip on my control, but I was having a hard time just holding on to my sanity. I took a deep breath in case he was nearby, and I left the bathroom.</p><p>Surprisingly, Eric wasn't there waiting for me. I walked back toward our section when I felt a sting in my upper arm. I spun around and saw Farhad Khatami, right before I passed out.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Quack. Also, this has been out in the open all along. Eric told you that he told Gran and Jason that Sookie was dead way back in the first paragraph of Chapter 8! Sheesh. :P</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Interview With (the) Vampire Bill</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I woke up lying in a bed in a small room. I had been dreaming about Eric; we were making love in a place I'd never seen before. It looked and felt incredibly real. I mentally flipped it off. At least I didn't feel remotely turned on.</p><p>The room I was in was stark and drab, with a metal bed frame and a thin mattress and a night stand and little else. It reminded me far too much of my room in Building H for comfort. I wondered what in the fuck Farhad Khatami wanted with me, and why it involved me remaining alive. Not that I was complaining.</p><p>The good news was that the abduction had distracted me from how much I wanted to kill Eric. I thought it strange that Khatami had known enough about me to know where I was and how to effectively subdue me (although it had been to his benefit that I'd been as distracted as I had been), but didn't seem to know enough to keep me restrained, physically or chemically. Or maybe he had underestimated the amount of sedative to use on me, like Quinn had.</p><p>I still hadn't asked Eric if he could find me using the bond when I was shielding. It's almost like I had spent the last two nights half out of my mind or something. At least I had an excuse to feel angry and all kinds of fucked up, so I opened up the bond and called for him.</p><p>Probably he would be walking into a trap, but he would be expecting one. And he would have me as backup. I would be able to sense him as he got closer and I would be ready to kick the door down.</p><p>What if Khatami had given me something to sap my strength? That would be a deadly surprise I didn't need. I didn't want to make much noise, so I gripped the bed frame and squeezed until the metal dented. Good. And shockingly, my garter holster was still in place. Of course, I'd thrown my goddamn stakes in the garbage like some kind of idiot. What was I thinking? Sorry not sorry, Eric, if I had a do-over, you'd just have to take on a little added risk. I did have a throwing knife, though, and the night stand was made of wood. When the shit hit the fan, I would break me off four stakes. Hopefully Eric would watch his fucking step. For his sake.</p><p>I mentally yelled for Eric again and meditated on the bed. I needed to harness all of my anger and pack every other emotion away. I needed to let all of my resentment at Eric go. Not forever. Not a fucking chance. But until I got the fuck out of here, I was Team Eric. After? We would have to wait and fucking see. And, from here, it didn't look good. Not even a little bit.</p><p>I heard someone coming down the hall, and it wasn't Eric. I grabbed the night table by two legs, flipped it upside down, and pulled. The wood splintered away from the screws and glue. I broke all 4 legs off. They weren't pretty, but they were jagged and sturdy and made out of wood, and that was definitely a vampire coming.</p><p>Bill entered the room, looking kind of like a lion tamer. He was bent forward with his arms up and his palms out. Probably a good idea, considering.</p><p>"Well, Bill. Here you are looking at me again. I hope you like hot dogs." Eric had let him get away without making him eat his own dick in the hallway earlier. Hopefully he wouldn't a second time. I always liked a good show.</p><p>"Sookie, I needed to talk to you alone."</p><p>"Ah. So you decided that the best way to do that was to get in cahoots with an al Qaeda terrorist. Strange bedfellows, I must say, Bill. Did you rat me out to Khatami?"</p><p>"Well, I did let him know that you and Eric would be at the stadium, and I held Eric and Pam's attention for a time after you left to use the facilities to give him a chance to intercept you."</p><p>"I don't know if you've heard, with your head shoved so far up your ass, but there's a War on Terror. It's an actual official war. Declared and everything. I am a very expensive and powerful weapon belonging to the US government, and you gave me to the enemy. You've kind of just committed treason."</p><p>He blinked. Apparently, that hadn't occurred to him. What a fucking doorknob.</p><p>"Powerful weapon? I would think telepathy would be more of a tool than a weapon."</p><p>I laughed. It felt kind of weird, considering today. "I think that you might have been misinformed about me. That wasn't a lucky poke earlier this evening."</p><p>I had a stake against his chest again. He wasn't in a hallway this time, so he jumped back.</p><p>"Where did you hear about me, Bill? Most people in Bon Temps just thought I was crazy."</p><p>"Your cousin Hadley belongs to the Queen of Louisiana, Sophie-Anne Leclerc. She told us many stories of your gift, but said that you had been tragically killed, along with your parents. Well, you could imagine my surprise when I heard that you belonged to Eric Northman and worked for the NSA. It didn't take long to figure out what had happened. Obviously, they took you and killed your parents and faked your death."</p><p>My whole world was rocked again. How had I not figured out on my own that the NSA had murdered my parents? I wasn't an idiot. Was it one of those things where I was just too close to it to see it clearly? Had I believed the lie for so long it was ingrained? Or was I being willfully ignorant? A little see-no-evil to protect my sanity?</p><p>And Hadley? There was someone I hadn't thought about in a long time. Then again, I had only ever thought about Hadley when she was being mean to me.</p><p>And was Eric involved in murdering my parents?</p><p>I acted like this whole conversation was vaguely annoying, and I was growing bored of it.</p><p>"No shit, Sherlock. Are you supposed to be breaking some new ground here, Bill? Am I supposed to be surprised that I was taken by the NSA? That my parents are dead? That Eric works for the NSA? I've been on the same page from the get go."</p><p>"When I saw you, knowing that you came from Bon Temps, that I met your cousin, that I was close enough to investigate for myself… I knew it was fate. That you were meant to be mine."</p><p>"That's not fate, you jackass. it's a fucking coincidence. It's not like we're talking the opposite sides of the planet here. Dallas and New Orleans are both about a four hour drive from Bon Temps. You heard about me because you were in our mutual home state and we had a shared acquaintance. Eric and I were coincidentally coming to Dallas, and you know people in Dallas because there are relatively few vampires and it's the next state over. And y'all gossip like grandmas at a church supper."</p><p>No, me seeing Jason at the game. That seemed like fate. Not this weak ass bullshit.</p><p>"Why am I not restrained? And why do I have my knife?"</p><p>"You were restrained, but I removed them. And I reattached your holster as well. I knew that you would stay put. I knew you would be reasonable."</p><p>"Why are you being so nice to me? I have been nothing but mean to you."</p><p>"No, you were very nice and polite before I attempted to glamour you. As I said, it was unforgivable.</p><p>"What does Khatami want with me?"</p><p>"At first he just wanted you out of the way. There was word of a telepath being trained by the NSA and he was afraid that his plot would be exposed. And, of course, he was right to be.</p><p>"But then when Eric got involved, it became personal. There was some bad blood between them from the Fairy War, from what I understand. And then, when Eric so easily beat him, he became enraged. He wanted revenge. He was originally going to kill you to hurt Eric, but he needed my help, and my price was you.</p><p>"He decided killing Pam would be good enough. And then Eric, too, of course."</p><p>I knew Eric was still alive; I felt him humming away, although he was being strangely silent. I don't know how he could have possibly known that anything had changed between us. Why wasn't he coming for me?</p><p>"And the two of you were going to do that on your own?"</p><p>"Originally, yes. But I knew we were no match for them. It would be suicide. But, as it turns out, that is being dealt with by Stan and Isabel. Stan was planning on taking care of Pam tonight after the football game, and then he and Isabel would take care of Eric when he was… incapacitated by the pain of losing her. I was supposed to distract you until they were through. I told them I would do it if I got to keep you. You would be mine and you would be safe from the NSA. But Isabel wanted you for herself. She wanted vengeance. I couldn't let that happen, so I played along, but I made sure Farhad got to you first. It necessarily moved up their timeline."</p><p>If Pam survived the night, it would be in part because of Bill. Fuck. And he might have saved me from Isabel. Double fuck. Part of me still wanted to stake him, but as big of a douche as he was, it would be murder. Or at least it would feel that way to me. Besides, he might be useful. He seemed pretty fucking intent on keeping me alive.</p><p>"Where is Khatami?"</p><p>"He is in the shadows observing the fight. If Eric or Pam survive, he will make sure they don't stay that way."</p><p>I was still betting on Eric and Pam, but Bill was also giving me an out. I would survive this night, at least, no matter what happened.</p><p>I sure as hell didn't trust Bill as far as I could throw him on any level, except apparently to keep me alive. But I could certainly pretend to trust him while I used him. Unapologetically. He was, after all, looking to use me, too. He had no real feelings for me other than a desire for possession - of my body, my blood, and my talents. I was pretty sure I could take Bill in a fight, so his physical protection wasn't what I was after at all. But I might need an in with other vampires.</p><p>And I might need his blood.</p><p>I didn't even want to think about that, so I didn't. But I knew, if worse came to worse, I had myself a plan B. I'm nothing if not pragmatic.</p><p>Finally, Eric opened the bond and I could feel his triumph, tinged with a bit of disappointment. I sent him caution. He needed to be aware of Khatami. Then I felt his good humour and knew he was kicking some more vampire ass.</p><p>"Bill, I appreciate you looking out for me. I guess maybe I misjudged you a little, and I'm sorry. So I'm going to do you a solid here. Pam and Eric won. Eric is kicking Khatami's ass now. I have a GPS tracking chip from the NSA and a blood bond with Eric. It's going to be him and Pam against you pretty fucking soon. If you want to live, you should probably go while you have the chance."</p><p>"How can you manipulate the blood like you do?"</p><p>"I am a woman of many talents, Bill."</p><p>And nobody knew the half of it.</p><p>Finally, I felt Eric getting closer.</p><p>"You're running out of time. He's coming, and he's coming fast. He can fly, you know. I'm not going with you."</p><p>"Sookie, I will see you again."</p><p>That sounded almost like a threat to me. Bill slipped out the bedroom door no more than three minutes before Eric came in through the window.</p><p>I instinctively ran into his arms, so relieved to be safe and to have him safe with me. And then had to make myself not recoil when I remembered.</p><p>"Isabel escaped again, minus an arm. But Khatami and Stan are dead."</p><p>"I can't believe Stan double crossed us. Poor Pam. Will you get in trouble for killing a Sheriff?"</p><p>"No, I have the US government on my side. And they attacked us first. Pam enjoyed the fight as much as I did, at least. Are you alright, my love? I'm sorry I didn't reply when you called but you didn't feel like you were in any immediate danger. And I had my hands full. Very impressed you can do that, by the way. But you closed the bond as soon as I got close. Nobody hurt you, did they?"</p><p>"No. Bill actually took my restraints off and put the garter holster back on while I was still unconscious. He must have thrown the stakes away, though."</p><p>Well, lookie here. My bff Smooth Lying Sookie was back. I had never needed her more. I would rock the passenger seat all fucking night. Nothing wrong with shotgun.</p><p>There was, I guess, an inner sociopath in me after all. I'm not really talking about multiple personalities here. It's just that sometimes, when shit is really bad and I'm not strong enough or smooth enough to make it through on my own, I just put everything I have into the mask and basically become her. It wasn't really a conscious decision; it was more like a switch got flipped automatically. Instinct. But Old Smooth Lying Sookie is basically just me method acting my ass off. I'm playing a part, but I'm so in character, that it just kind of takes over. She has a mind of her own, but the real me was still there underneath, watching and feeling and hurting.</p><p>"He touched your thigh?"</p><p>Oh lord. There's the priority. "It's Ok. He could have done anything to me while I was unconscious or tied up. I'm just thankful he didn't."</p><p>Except all of a sudden I was convinced that he had touched me when I was unconscious. More shit to pack away. It's a damn good thing my brain seems to have infinite storage.</p><p>"Where are we going to go? I want to get the fuck out of here."</p><p>"Pam got our bags from the nest and is checking us into a hotel. Come. I will fly us there."</p><p>The lying Sookie, the one in charge, she had no qualms about climbing into his arms. I went along for the ride.</p><p>He landed in the dark corner of an alley less than a block from the hotel. We met Pam in the lobby, and were in our room a minute or two later.</p><p>The bed was calling my name, but so was the bathroom. I used the latter, washed my hands, and blissfully climbed into the former. Eric climbed into bed beside me. I supposed I shouldn't have expected him to bunk down in the tub 90 minutes before dawn.</p><p>He gathered me to him, and Lying Sookie was enjoying the hell out of it. Part of me was, too, and I fucking hated it. But I had a part to play, and if I had to use my own body's betrayal to further my goals, then so be it.</p><p>I figured this would be the last time I got to fall asleep in his arms, so I let the parts of me that could take comfort from him do so.</p>
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<a name="section0023"><h2>23. A Big Mess</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For the first time since I started updating in December, I am all out of socked back chapters after this. I maybe burnt myself out a bit? I am far from done, and not taking a hiatus or anything, but I'm likely not going to be posting 6X / week. I'm sorry! I do have 24 half written, and it should be up later on this week, though. Aaaand considering the end of this chapter, you might have my head otherwise. :P And Chapter 16 will be up for YnB tomorrow. Seventeen is also half written. So. Thank you to everybody. That should cover it. :P </p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I must have been exhausted, or else my brain was trying to shield me from any added misery, because I didn't wake up until I was on my back with Eric kissing my neck in the hotel room. God, was I going to be able to do this? I didn't really see a way out of it. Well, other than honesty, but fuck that noise.</p><p>I stepped back and allowed my hard outer shell to make love to Eric. My mask. Smooth Sookie. It hurt. I hated how good he made me feel - not just physically, but in every way, pretty much. When he wasn't driving me up a tree, at least. And a big part of me wanted to just forgive him. Just let it all go so I could love and be loved and be happy again. Didn't I deserve a little more happiness? Love? Affection? A life? Or was a few short weeks it for me in this lifetime? But the rest of me wanted to kick that part's ass. Soft and forgiving is not who in the fuck I am. I wasn't a doormat, just ready to let go of any slight, no matter how egregious. And murdering my parents? Pretty fucking egregious. It was bad enough that I had let myself be open and trusting and to let him in in the first place. And look where in the fuck it had gotten me. He had broken my heart just a couple of days before, and after I'd patched that fucker back together, he fucking broke it again.</p><p>But I couldn't forgive him anyway until I knew for sure what he did, and when, and why. And I seriously doubted that what I found would let him off the hook. And I needed to know what was in that file about me. All of it.</p><p>With her in charge, my body was kissing Eric, running its fingers through his hair, and making love to him like it meant it with all its heart. The rest of me couldn't hide, couldn't shut myself off from it. Couldn't even close my eyes and stick my fingers in my ears and scream. I was still so glad to have her, though. When it was just me, before I had the masks, I had nothing to protect me.</p><p>It was a much different experience than the other times she had been in charge during sex; before, she had been uncooperative. Angry. Belligerent. And eventually murderous. She did what she was forced to do, but by fuck, she didn't make it easy. This was a whole new ballgame for her, though. She got to slut shit up all she liked. And here I was, on the one hand, loving every touch and kiss and stroke, and on the other, trying as hard as I could not to let my brain just lump this in with all of the other times I'd had sex but hadn't wanted to. It fucking killed me to equate Eric with Furnan. I didn't, really - as far as he knew, I had eagerly consented, and he had no clue how miserable this was making me. But I couldn't seem to help how I felt about it. It was making me even more upset and angry and confused and shameful. And I also hated the part of me that was sticking up for him. Who wanted the love and the comfort from him. To feel good and whole again. I felt like I was the rope in a tug of war between me and myself. It was kind of tearing me apart inside, even though I didn't let it show at all.</p><p>She came, and took me with her. I felt so fucking dirty, all I wanted was a shower, but I knew there wouldn't be time. Plus, he would want to join me.</p><p>I looked up at the ceiling as he called out my name when it was his turn to cum, and I realized that this was my dream from the night before. This wasn't just deja-vu; everything was exactly the same, from us to the room to what he yelled. No wonder I hadn't been turned on when I woke up wherever Khatami had taken me.</p><p>And hadn't this happened before? Hadn't I woken up on the verge of cumming because I dreamed of him between my legs? It hadn't connected at the time, but I was sure that it had happened just as I had dreamed not much later, the first time we'd made love.</p><p>I had had at least one other dream that had the same weight and clarity, but fortunately, it hadn't come to fruition. At least not yet. And I hoped to hell it wouldn't. I really didn't want to stake him, no matter how angry and hurt and betrayed I felt.</p><p>After we made… whatever, we headed for the airport.</p><p>Pam was being chatty, and I sat back and let her steer the conversation. Apparently, Pam wasn't upset by last night's turn of events at all. Stan betraying us was like having her cake and getting to eat it, too. Not that she could eat cake, but you know what I mean. She got to have great sex for a couple of nights, and then kick some major vampire ass. It didn't bother her at all that it was with the same guy.</p><p>Beaumont was, of course, in the wind. But from what I understood, that arm was going to take a while to grow back. It was going to make her a lot easier to kill, if we could ever find her.</p><p>I made myself nap on the plane, with my head on Eric's lap. He stroked my hair absently as he talked with Pam, and I let myself be soothed by him, for just a little while, to try to ease some of the hurt. And that made me feel dirty, too. God, I was a mess.</p><p>I was glad that we were losing an hour flying from Dallas to Arlington. I really wanted Eric to hurry up and die for the day so I could start my search.</p><p>After we got home, I made myself busy as much as possible, but of course he wanted me again. Telling him that I wasn't in the mood was going to trigger a whole bunch of questions and concerns that I just wasn't ready to deal with right then, so we had sex in the shower and then collapsed into bed. At least I was clean when I felt so dirty.</p><p>Finally it was dawn, and Eric died for the day. My first stop was the safe in the office, but even with my extra sensitive hearing, I couldn't crack it open. I could, however, kill two birds with one stone. I got in the Crown Vic and drove to the vet. It was just past 7AM, and I picked the 24 hour emergency vet that was closest to our house in Silver Spring. Fortunately, when I arrived, there was only one other person in the waiting room with her cat. They were taken back into an examination room, and I was alone with the receptionist.</p><p>"Hi! I need to see a vet, please."</p><p>"Do you have an appointment?"</p><p>Time for a few nudges.</p><p>"You can squeeze me in." <em>Push</em></p><p>"It looks like I can squeeze you in. Where's your pet?"</p><p>"He's right here with me. His name is Dean. He's a collie. Isn't he cute?" <em>Push</em></p><p>"Yes, adorable!" She really meant it, too. "What does he need to be seen for?"</p><p>"He has something lodged under his skin. I need for it to be removed." <em>Push</em></p><p>"OK! Please take Dean into room 3."</p><p>So my invisible dog and I mosied into room 3, and closed the door before anyone else came into the clinic. Thank goodness. I didn't have time for a nothing-to-see-here parade around the waiting room.</p><p>Or maybe I did, because it was about fifteen minutes before the vet came in. It was easy as pie to convince her that "Dean" had a foreign object that she needed to find and remove. She tried first with her RFID microchip scanner, but since a GPS chip is completely different, I wasn't surprised when it didn't work. Fortunately, she had a portable ultrasound unit and, even though I was covered in blue goop from head to toe by the time we were done, she located not one but two chips - one in the nape of my neck, and the other in the left cheek of my ass. She excised them both and gave me her stethoscope as well as the trackers. I thanked her profusely and gladly paid the bill with the money I found in Eric's wallet. And as far as she remembered, she'd done minor surgery excising a foreign object from a nice dog named Dean.</p><p>Next stop was back home for a shower, and then a little quality time with me, the safe, and Dr. Jones's stethoscope. The only safe crackers I'd researched were little more than rank amateurs, but with a little trial and error, and my new stethoscope, I had Eric's safe open in fifteen minutes. I flipped off the camera he told me was inside with both fingers, and took a look. There was an assload of cash, and I was going to be helping myself to a fair fucking bit of it. There were passports and documents and a couple of guns and some jewelry, and ammo, and, of course, my big-ass file. I wasn't exaggerating when I said it was a foot thick.</p><p>I took a deep breath and opened it up. Page after page of stark photos, reports, medical information, charts, comments, a psychological profile, test results, scans, x-rays, letters, and more. I looked at every picture and read every word. I didn't even know where to begin with trying to process it.</p><p>My parents' murder. The experiments performed on me. The torture. The bored, clinical tone of the descriptions of my pain and misery. The beatings. Injuring me on purpose over and over to see how quickly I could heal and from what. The plans to breed me, that were put on hold when I was deemed too volatile and uncontrollable. Inspired by the miscarriage I'd apparently had when I was eleven and a half. They'd known, and they let him keep raping me for almost another year after.</p><p>I stared at a black and white picture of eight year old me for several minutes. My eyes looked completely haunted. It was before I had my masks. Before I even had my anger to protect me. I was just hurt and scared and alone while I was tortured by the government that was supposed to protect me. I had been taken from an unhappy life and thrown into abuse, neglect, and misery.</p><p>So many different hands had touched this file, and none of them had stopped it. They were all complicit. Including Eric. He had, after all, read every word more than once.</p><p>I wanted the NSA to know that I knew the score now. I opened up my laptop and logged in to the NSA website with Arlene from Personnel's creds again. The dumb fucks hadn't even changed their passwords.</p><p>I printed copies of Eric's personnel file, Quinn's, Beaumont's, and Furnan's. I was surprised that his had even been digitized. I went ahead and printed off one for every agent and analyst and trainer that had hurt me. Then I decided to check Tray's. I could use an address in case the shit hit the fan hard enough to pull him into my mess. If he would even take my side over the government's.</p><p>Tray was dead. Had been killed only a couple of days after I had left Building H. He'd been dead for <em>weeks. </em>Despite Eric telling me he would be fine.</p><p>Our luggage from Dallas was still packed. I dumped both suitcases out onto the floor of our bedroom and filled mine with clean clothes from the closet. I filled his with all of the files, including my own, all of the money from the safe, as well as the guns and ammo. I went ahead and dumped in the jewelry, too. Fuck it. I took them out to the garage and put them in the trunk of the Crown Vic. I wanted to take the Corvette, just as a final fuck you, but it was too flashy, even for the short time I'd be in this car.</p><p>I was going to go to Bon Temps. I would find Gran and Jason and tell them I was alive. I would give them money and make them go hide. And then I was going to find and kill every single motherfucker who had hurt me.</p><p>I went into the kitchen and grabbed the paring knife out of the knife block on the island, and I went out to make me a stake. There was a motherfucker who had hurt me just downstairs. Maybe that dream was about to come true after all.</p>
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<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Interlude #3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I felt so bad about that cliffhanger, that I figured I maybe should update a little early. :P Oh, and 25 is done and visiting the beta as well, so there will be at least one update next week. And there will likely be more, too, because I'm a nerd. Oh, and YnB 17 is with the ilovemysteries, too. Isn't she swell? I would guess that there are about a half dozen chapters of AM left. I'm kind of freaking out. Happy and sad, grouchy and glad.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I was dreading the trip to Dallas; things had been going so well in our little oasis that I was loath to make any changes. She had been opening herself up to me. Hell, she had finally told me that she loved me, although I had felt it in my blood every time her shields were down.</p><p>The sex was phenomenal. When I told her that she fucked like a vampire, I meant it. Her strength and speed and stamina and drive were incredible. And she was insatiable. It's possible that we spent so much time fucking that we neglected things that should have been dealt with and discussed. Mostly, we were as compatible outside the bedroom as in. We enjoyed each other's humour, and company, and minds, not to mention bodies. When it was good between us, it was amazing.</p><p>I was hoping that the bond would be able to overcome her shields. Or, at the very least, feeling my emotions would enable her to open herself up to me. But she still kept so much distance. Sometimes I felt like I was the human and she was the vampire, with our bond only going in one direction, and her being the one in control. It was not a feeling I enjoyed. I wondered how much she was keeping from me. But she was letting me in more and more.</p><p>I knew she was upset about the bond, and I stupidly tried to project calm and acceptance rather than talking to her about her worries. And then I introduced her to Stan as my asset. It was idiotic. It certainly wasn't planned; I struggled with what word to use in the moment, and that, of all things, was what tumbled out. I should have known how she would react. I had read the horrendous abuse she had suffered at the hands of Isabel Beaumont and the NSA.</p><p>Finally, I was able to beg her forgiveness. And I did beg. She had certainly made me throw far too many of my preconceived notions about myself out the window. But was having someone who constantly tested me and made me doubt myself making me stronger or weak?</p><p>And during the whole trip, every time I turned around, there was Bill Fucking Compton, sniffing around her. He made no secret of his desire for her, even drenching her in his blood right in front of me. And then he distracted me at the football game, allowing Khatami to abduct her.</p><p>Being backstabbed by Stan was a disappointment, but not a surprise. Duplicity and gamesmanship is, of course, the vampire way. And I had known of his relationship with Isabel, of course. Pam and I had badly wounded Stan, and I was about to finish Isabel when Farhad Khatami cut in. Pam ended Stan and, once again, Isabel got away in the confusion.</p><p>"Care for a dance, Northman?"</p><p>"Sorry, Farhad. You're hardly my type."</p><p>"No. You seem to like them young and blonde and easily impressionable."</p><p>I laughed out loud at that. "You obviously don't know my girls as well as you think you do."</p><p>"I know that one of them is damaged goods. I didn't take you for someone who would take sloppy seconds from the likes of Wolves and Tigers."</p><p>"What do you know about Sookie and Tigers, Farhad?"</p><p>"Oh, I had a chance encounter with one a few weeks back. I might have… persuaded him to have a little fun. It wasn't hard. I figured it might throw a wrench into Project Sartori long enough for me to pull off the attack on the Pentagon. Or, at the very least, get you into my crosshairs. I failed on the first part but not on the second. I underestimated you once, Northman. I won't do it again."</p><p>And then, of course, he proceeded to underestimate me, and he was soon a pile of ash on the ground. He always had thought himself stronger and more skilled than he had any reason to.</p><p>I finally answered Sookie's call, wondering again at the way she manipulated the blood and the bond. I flew to her and discovered that Bill Compton had once again stuck his nose where it didn't belong. Unfortunately, Sookie hadn't broken it this time. He had put his hands on her, and would surely die for that.</p><p>I was very glad to get home to Silver Spring. And it was home, and no longer just a safehouse. A couple of times, Sookie had seemed distant, but it had been a very trying few days. We showered together and then I succumbed to the pull of the sun in her arms.</p><p>I felt extremely disoriented as I opened my eyes. I knew the sun was still in the sky. I slowly shook my head and looked at the clock on Sookie's bedside table. It was just past 2PM. Why was I awake?</p><p>Sookie's voice, from right behind me. She was standing right by my side of the bed. "You'll never guess who I ran into at the football game. My brother. Isn't that wild? Small world. You know him, right? Jason? Hell, you'd seen him since I had, before Monday night."</p><p>Oh, shit. I was so weak. I could hardly move, but I rolled onto my back so I could look at her. "Sookie…"</p><p>"Not sure if you're aware of this, but I'm actually alive, despite what you told my family."</p><p>I closed my eyes.</p><p>"So, were you involved in taking me?"</p><p>I looked at her again. "No. I was Sheriff of Area Five. I only informed your grandmother and brother as a courtesy to Isabel. I joined the NSA later, as you know. And I had nothing else to do with Project Sartori until just before your eighteenth birthday."</p><p>"But you would have."</p><p>I sighed. "In the abstract? Yes. I'm sure I would have. But seeing it in person? Knowing you, and then realizing that those things had been done to you…? It kills me."</p><p>"Because you love me." It wasn't a question.</p><p>"Yes. Of course. Some of it. But, no. It happened within minutes of meeting you. I knew that it was wrong."</p><p>"And if I was ugly? Fat? Didn't smell like a candy shop?"</p><p>"I don't know. I would like to think it wouldn't matter. How did you wake me?"</p><p>"I gave the bond a great big yank. Can you find me? When I'm shielding my emotions from you?"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>She looked very upset at that revelation. "How could you be involved in something like this?"</p><p>"Sookie, before you, it was always vampires first. I tried not to be cruel if it could be helped, because I find it dishonourable, but the experiences of humans were far down on my list of priorities. We were convinced that the ends justified the means. But even a thousand year old vampire can learn and grow. What was done to you was horrific. It was wrong. And it should never have happened to anyone."</p><p>"Would you have murdered my parents?" Every word she spoke was flat. Her mask never budged.</p><p>"No. It was unnecessary, and there was too much risk of exposure. I would have just glamoured them to believe giving you up was the right thing to do. And, likely, I would have faked your death of some childhood disease soon after, filed the paperwork, and then glamoured your parents into accepting it."</p><p>"Tray's dead."</p><p>Fuck. "Yes, I know."</p><p>"Since when?"</p><p>"The evening it happened. It was the night we went out to the bar. Our first mission. The night you punished yourself in the dojo. I didn't lie to you. I was sure he would be safe. I had no idea Isabel would lose her mind."</p><p>"Didn't think his death was worth mentioning at the time, huh?"</p><p>"I should have. You were so upset, and I… I wanted to protect you."</p><p>"Protect me or the NSA? I found my file, by the way. Read the whole fucking thing. A real page turner."</p><p>Fuck. This was moving into worst case scenario territory.</p><p>"Furnan impregnated me. I was eleven years old. When I miscarried, they had plans to breed me again. Hell, they let him keep on raping me for a year. I guess they were hoping for a repeat. And they were going to take away my child and subject him to more torture. Maybe they would learn from their mistakes and not torture him quite so much. Or maybe worse? Who knows? Would you have gone along with that in the abstract? Given approval by saying nothing?"</p><p>"I would never have approved of the rape of a child. Or forcing one to have a child against her will. When I read that part of the file, I was enraged. Disgusted. No. I would never have let that happen."</p><p>"How did they keep all of this information from me?"</p><p>"They were glamoured to not think of it, if not glamoured to forget it altogether."</p><p>"Are there others? Like me?"</p><p>"Not that I know of."</p><p>"If there were, would you stop it? Save them?"</p><p>"I don't know."</p><p>There was a long, long pause. The sun was starting to carry me away, despite myself, when she spoke again. Her mask had slipped, and her pain was written all over her face. But her voice was so cold.</p><p>"Apparently, I dream the future now. These dreams are incredibly vivid. Just like watching a movie of my life, but before it happens. I dreamed of you making love to me with your mouth on my second morning here. It was exactly the same two nights later when it really happened. I just passed it off as deja vu at the time.</p><p>"But after I'd been taken by Khatami, I dreamed of having sex with you in a room I'd never seen before. It was just like watching it happen. And then we did it the next evening before our flight. Everything was just exactly the same, including the hotel room. And how miserable I was, knowing how you had betrayed me.</p><p>"I had another one not too long ago. Just last week. It was exactly the same as earlier today. Up until I changed it." She held up her hand, holding a stake. "It was a close fucking thing. But I'm not a goddamn coward. When I stake you, it won't be when you're dead for the day. I'm going to be looking in your eyes when I do it. Unless you look away. Your cowardice is on you.</p><p>"Everyone who let that happen to me is going to die. Every single one of you who was involved. Or at least as many as I can kill before they take me down. I'm going to die without vampire blood anyway. Might as well take as many of you fucks with me as I can. But you first. You make me weak.</p><p>"Fuck you for making me lower my guard. I might have survived this if I didn't have anything to lose. But you've fucking broken me." Her voice started to crack. "Fuck you for taking Pam away from me. She's always going to choose you and she's the only friend I've ever had. Fuck you for making me care about you." She was openly crying now. "Fuck you for making me trust you. Fuck you for making me love you. I fucking hate you for making me love you."</p><p>She raised the stake over her head. And she let down her shields. I have no idea how she stood it. I closed my eyes, despite the danger, at the sheer weight of her pain. When I opened them again, she was gone.</p>
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<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Homecoming</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I guess the posting blitz has officially commenced? I am finished through Chapter 29. One last chapter to go. Will almost certainly be done by the time I post tomorrow. :D A chapter a day until we're through. I promise to get back to work on YnB in a day or three. :D But AM Sookie won't let me go until she's done telling her story. Thanks to everyone for commenting and subscribing and kudoing and cheering me on. I appreciate the hell out of it. And thanks to ilovemysteries for being awesome.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I wanted to stake him. I knew I needed to, or else my World Revenge Tour would be over before it started. But I couldn't. I just couldn't fucking do it. I ran from our room, from our house, and I got in the Crown Vic, and I took off.</p><p>I needed to get as far from Eric as I could. I had totally fucked myself. I needed to swap cars, but time was at a premium. I only had a few hours before he would be on my tail. I checked for anyone nearby and I pulled the plates off a neighbour's car and swapped them with the Crown Vic's. I drove as fast as I could to Ronald Reagan International, and pulled into the long term parking Economy Lot, hoping it would be less travelled than the garage parking. There were only a few people around. I parked the Crown Vic, took out my suitcases, and broke into a nondescript mid-90s Cutlass Supreme. I threw the bags in the backseat, and had it hotwired in about a minute and a half. I handed the attendant the ticket on the dashboard and paid the fee. And I was on my way to Louisiana.</p><p>The Olds had almost a full tank of gas, so at least there was that. I was only going to be a few hours ahead of him, though, and he could fly a whole hell of a lot faster than I could drive. He was going to catch me for sure, no matter where I went or how fast I got there. Why hadn't I ended him when I had the chance?</p><p>Because I loved him. Of course that was it. He had made me weak, just as I had said he did. But I would die before being taken again. I was fucking done with the NSA. Or I would be when all of those bastards were dead. And maybe he wouldn't be able to kill me any more than I'd been able to kill him. But I had the stake in a cupholder in the console, just in case.</p><p>I stopped at a truck stop and managed to drop the trackers into the jacket pocket of a short haul trucker. It might be enough to keep the rest of the NSA off my heels for a few days, at least. I didn't think Eric would rat me out to them; he'd want to catch me himself, if he could. And the trackers would just be moving around the greater DC area. I got myself a coffee and a couple of doughnuts and hit the road.</p><p>I drove all night long, scanning for voids constantly. I switched from coffee to energy drinks so I didn't have to keep stopping. I had been up since sunset the night before, and I was running on fumes. It certainly wasn't ideal, but I didn't have a choice. Hunkering down for the night when you're being chased by a vampire with a blood bond with you isn't too bright. Fortunately (ha) I was used to bouts of sleep deprivation. It had been used in the past as a form of punishment and as a method of torture. Along with some experimentation. Lucky me. But at least I knew my body could handle it.</p><p>I had never been so happy to see the sun. I needed a nap like crazy, but I had shit I needed to take care of first. I had made it as far as Birmingham, Alabama. I had just over 12 hours of sunlight, but I wanted to arrive in Bon Temps in the morning, so I wouldn't have to worry about Eric crashing the reunion. Fuck! How was I going to arrange this? I guessed it was time to take care of some business first, and I'd worry about later when I got there.</p><p>I found a WalMart, and counted out $3000 from the stash in Eric's suitcase. I bought a laptop, a TomTom GPS, a power inverter for the car's cigarette lighter, and a burner cell phone with a prepaid SIM card, just in case. I got back into the Cutlass and plugged in the laptop and turned it on. I cruised the streets until I found a nice upper middle class subdivision, and I found an unsecured wifi signal on the second street I tried. I pulled over, got connected, and started trying to log into the FBI.</p><p>The first two sets of credentials I tried were a bust - the passwords had been changed - and I was afraid that I was up Shit Creek. But the third time was the charm. Maybe the FBI was a little more rigorous than the NSA when it came to cybersecurity. A little ironic, that.</p><p>I was looking for an informant who had done time for, or had been charged with, forgery. Preferably who was somewhat local. I could make my own documents, sure, but I sure as hell didn't have the equipment or time to procure it.</p><p>There was one in Gate City who looked promising, and I unplugged the laptop, plugged in the TomTom, and plugged the address into the GPS. I was on my way. When I arrived, I loaded the Glock and stuck it in the back of my jeans. I pulled my t-shirt off to the side and tied a knot in the tail so my shirt barely covered my bra and it was super tight. I fluffed up my hair and bit my lip and knocked. I tried to look as alluring - and slutty - as possible. Mack Rattray came to the door and opened it wide. The stupid fucker.</p><p>"Well, hello there, darlin'! What can I do for you?"</p><p>"Invite me in." <em>Push</em></p><p>And, of course, he did. I didn't have to touch my gun. Hell, I probably could have gotten by without using my push. The Rat fell all over himself while he took my picture and made my IDs and passport. I made sure that all traces of me were gone - from his house and his brain - before I left. I felt kind of bad about stiffing him, but not bad enough to leave any evidence behind. I made sure not to touch anything. Especially him.</p><p>I found a Motel 6 nearby and checked in with my new bona fides. I crashed until just past dusk, and was a nervous wreck until I got back on the road. I was sure Eric could cut me off from feeling him approach - an inequality I resented immensely. But I could search for voids, at least, and I kept a constant lookout. Bon Temps was only about a 6 hour drive from Birmingham, if I took a straight shot and kept to the speed limits. That would get me there in the middle of the night, and that didn't work for me at all. I cut down to New Orleans and then went north, after switching out the Cutlass for a beige mid-90s Toyota Celica with Louisiana plates at the Louis Armstrong International long-term parking lot. With a couple of pit stops for gas and a bathroom, it was just past dawn when I rolled into Bon Temps.</p><p>Everything looked smaller than I remembered. Older. I was shocked when I made it and the sun came up without Eric showing up. I'd like to say I didn't spend most of the time looking over my shoulder, but I'd be lying.</p><p>Gran had always been an early riser, and I had no problem finding Hummingbird Road, even though I hadn't been there in a decade. I guessed I was just going to do this.</p><p>The old farmhouse looked the same, and Gran was sitting on the rocking chair on the porch, catty-corner to the swing, with a cup of coffee. The morning was a bit chilly, and she was wearing a housecoat and had a throw over her knees. She was wondering who was driving up her driveway at this time of day. She didn't recognize the car, of course.</p><p>My throat was so tight, and my hands were trembling so hard I missed the door handle on my first try. I blew out a shaky breath before I tried again. I got out and walked on wobbly legs up to the porch. Gran stood up quickly, her hand going to her throat. She dropped her mug, and it bounced on the boards and spilled, but didn't break. The throw slid off her lap and was lying in a pool of coffee.</p><p>"Hey, Gran. So, funny story. I'm alive."</p><p>"Oh my stars. Sookie?" Her brain knew it was me, but she was having a hard time catching up. Not that I blamed her. Believing something for so long and then realizing it's horseshit really fucks with you. Believe me. "Jason told me he saw someone who looked just like you the other day…"</p><p>I smiled. "Yup. That was me. At the Saints game in Dallas. I was there on a mission. For the NSA. They're the ones who took me. They told me you were dead, too. It was a pretty big surprise when I read his mind and found out you're alive. I had to come and see you for myself."</p><p>"Come here, child. Let me get a look at you."</p><p>I walked up onto the porch and stood in front of her. I was a little bit concerned about touch, but this was Gran. I could put that aside for her. She put her hands on my cheeks and I closed my eyes. Love. Warmth. Disbelief. Pleasure. Her brain was nothing but pure Gran, and I broke down in tears.</p><p>She held me to her and rocked us and we both cried for a long long time.</p>
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<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Let The Good Times Roll</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So, I finished a thing today. And I'm really kind of excited about it. And emotional. And I'm going to miss AM Sookie so fucking much. Everything is betaed and ready (ilovemysteries? Rock star!) and a day ahead of schedule, even. At least on this hemisphere. :P So, laissez les bon temps rouler.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Gran invited me in and insisted on making me breakfast. And she promised fried chicken for supper. I decided to wait before springing the news that we were probably going to be on the move by then.</p><p>She told me that Aunt Linda was very ill with cancer, and that Hadley was a runaway, and had been missing for ages. I told her how sorry I was about Linda, and that Hadley was, as far as I knew, safe and living in New Orleans. I left out the part where she was the property of the Vampire Queen of Louisiana. But we would probably get there eventually.</p><p>She told me that Uncle Bartlett was doing well, and I told her that he was a child molesting sack of garbage. Several pieces fell into place in her brain, and she was overcome with guilt.</p><p>"Please don't blame yourself, Gran. If you want to blame anyone other than him, blame Mama. I told her before she died. She didn't believe me."</p><p>"What happened to you, Sookie? Where have you been?"</p><p>"The NSA paid one of my psychologists for a tip about me. Because of the telepathy. A finder's fee, I guess. She referred me to a psychiatrist, who was actually the NSA agent in charge of my project. That was the appointment we went to that night. She asked me a bunch of questions and administered a bunch of psychological tests, and told Mama and Daddy that I was very disturbed and needed to be institutionalized. They left, and were killed by the NSA on the way home. I was drugged and taken to a facility in Maryland and trained to be a spy. I was there until this past July, shortly after I turned 18."</p><p>"Corbett and Michelle were murdered?"</p><p>"Yes, they were. I'm so sorry."</p><p>"Are you happy? Did they take good care of you?" She thought that I was beautiful and looked incredibly healthy, so I must have been well cared for, at least.</p><p>So, I told her. I told her everything. About the neglect and abuse. About the training. About the things I could do. About the pregnancy and miscarriage. About the vampire blood, and the physiological changes to my body. About the terrible things I'd done and the men I'd killed. About the missions and Eric and Pam. About seeing Jason and finding out about the truth and reading my file.</p><p>I went out and got my file out of the car and I brought it in and handed it to her. I laid on the couch with my head in her lap as she read, her hand stroking my hair, not quite absently. I tried not to notice when her tears fell on my face. I found it so strange that her touch just made me feel protected. Even though she did pity me. I was pretty pitiful, after all. Poor pitiful Pearl. That was me.</p><p>When she was through, she set the file aside and didn't speak for several minutes. The last several pages were from Eric, detailing my removal from the facility and his displeasure at my treatment, as well as our missions together, before Dallas.</p><p>"You've run from them?"</p><p>"Yes'm"</p><p>"They will be chasing you."</p><p>I sat up and shrugged. "I have lots of money. You and Jason will need to take some and hide. Tonight. Before dark. Eric will come here looking for me. I… I tried to kill him, but I couldn't do it. He won't come after you, though. I know he wouldn't hurt you. He's a good man. I think. So you should be safe if I can get the rest of them. I'm going to kill them all. I'll come for you if I can, but I don't think so. I'm addicted to the vampire blood, and I don't know how long I can go without it. It's been a few days already. Since, Monday, I guess." I blushed, remembering the shower Monday night before the game. Fuck, it felt like an eternity ago. "I'll die without it, so I'm pretty much screwed. But I'm going to take as many with me as I can."</p><p>Poor Gran. This was a lot to take in.</p><p>"I really shouldn't have come. I've put you in danger. But I wanted you to know I was alive. And what they did to me. Maybe that was selfish…"</p><p>"No, Sookie. Oh, no. Please don't be sorry."</p><p>I heard a vehicle coming down the road. "Jason is on his way here. He's thinking about something he saw on TV. About me."</p><p>Gran turned the TV on and my face was plastered all over it.</p><p><em>...annah King is accused of murdering prominent Dallas businessman Stan Davis and US Federal Agent John Quinn. She is considered armed and extremely dangerous. Do not approach. She was last seen in the Washington DC area wearing blue jeans and </em>a black t-shirt.<em> She could be working under the pseudonyms Susannah Quinn or Sookie Stackhouse. Please contact the FBI Major Case Contact Center at 1-800-225-5324, or dial 911 with any tips or sightings.</em></p><p>I put my head in my hands. "Stan Davis was the Vampire Sheriff of Area 9 in Texas. We stayed at his nest - his house - last weekend in Dallas. He was good friends with Isabel Beaumont and he double crossed us and the NSA. I was abducted by an Al Qaeda terrorist at Texas Stadium. Long story. Stan pretended to be assisting Eric and Pam. They left the game to find me, but Isabel showed up, hoping to get the jump on them. She and Stan attacked them, but Eric and Pam were stronger. Isabel lost an arm but got away. Stan wasn't so lucky." I laughed. What a fucking kick in the teeth. And the NSA was going to blame me for Stan's death and use it to catch me. Fuck the motherfucking NSA. I looked at Gran. "I have killed. You read it in the file. I killed Quinn when he tried to rape me. But I didn't kill Stan."</p><p>"Sookie, you killed to protect yourself. Never ever be ashamed of that."</p><p>Jason burst into the house and stopped short when he saw me. My heart was beating so fast, but I played it off like it was nothing. I stood up and stuffed my hands in my back pockets, "Oh, hey Jason."</p><p>"Sookie? It is you? It was you in Dallas? And you're some kind of killer?"</p><p>"Well, yeah? Kind of? But I didn't kill that guy." There was a very nice picture of Stan on the TV. His glasses were mended with electrical tape, and that particular plaid really made his eyes pop. I had liked him, before he tried to kill Eric and Pam. The double crossing prick.</p><p>Jason slowly walked up to me, staring at me so hard that I felt super self-conscious. He reached up and almost touched my face. He was having a really hard time coming to grips with this. I decided to break the ice a bit. "Hey big brother. Long time to see? Well, except for Monday. Sorry I didn't say hi. I was a little freaked out."</p><p>That surprised a chuckle out of him, and he tentatively offered up a hug. I tentatively returned it. But something shifted in that hug, and we were a little less hesitant with each other after that.</p><p>"Gran, I know I need to go. I really think y'all should go hide, too. I know they will come here looking for me. They have obviously given up on the pretense that I'm dead." I gestured at the TV, where I was looking back at myself, sullen and angry. I had certainly made it easy for them; all of my pictures looked sullen and angry. Or in pain. There's a good reason for that.</p><p>"Fuck that, Sook. If you didn't do nothin' wrong, then there's no reason to run." Oh, Jason. My sweet summer child. I certainly hadn't done anything wrong when I was eight years old, but running would have damn well been in my best interest.</p><p>"If they can use me, they will take me and hold me against my will. My whole life, pretty much, has been against my will. If they can't use me anymore, they will kill me, or lock me up forever. And I won't get a trial. They can't afford to let me talk."</p><p>The scene on the TV changed to Isabel Beaumont. She was in the newsroom and was being interviewed by an anchor. Her empty sleeve was folded and pinned. The chyron called her Senior NSA Analyst. It was a damn good thing I was standing in front of the couch, because I sat down hard on it when my knees gave way. Then there was a picture of Eric on the screen. They were hunting him now, too. How in the fuck had the US government come down on team Beaumont? Against Eric, who was her superior? After what had happened to me in the car? After Tray? After what she had done to me for <em>years?</em> After she attacked Eric and Pam while I was in the custody of an al Qaeda terrorist?</p><p>"Hey, Gran! Wasn't that the sheriff who told us about Mama and Daddy and Sook? He looks exactly the same! What the fuck?"</p><p>"Yeah, Jason. That's kind of my NSA handler. And my vampire boyfriend. It's complicated." I guess maybe I shouldn't have spoken so soon the other night in Texas. I had sort of introduced Eric - to my own family, no less - as my NSA handler, after all.</p><p>What in the fuck was I going to do? I couldn't fucking just march up to Building H, guns blazing, now. Everyone was looking for me. I wasn't the hunter. I was the fucking victim again. The scared and cornered rabbit. Prey.</p><p>I had told Eric I was gone looking for people to kill. Hopefully they were concentrating their search in and around DC. But I knew they would make it here eventually. And, of course, any were or vampire would be able to smell me, so hiding would be useless. Gran and Jason had already been implicated.</p><p>Gran said, "Jason, I need you to go to the Walmart in Clarice. You need to get some dark brown hair dye. Better get two boxes, your sister has a whole lot of hair. I have some good scissors."</p><p>I cut in, "And get one of those big computer printers that scans and makes photocopies, too. And a lot of extra ink."</p><p>"Will that work without a computer?"</p><p>"It doesn't matter, Gran. I have a laptop out in the car. And, Jason? Get some sharpies, too. Black ones. And file folders, paper clips, and big envelopes. And better get two reams of paper. And make sure the printer has a cable. If not, you'll need to buy one."</p><p>I ran outside and grabbed a bundle of cash from the suitcase. I ran back in and handed it to him. His eyebrows disappeared under his hair. "Jesus fucking Christ, Sookie! It'll be expensive, but it ain't gonna cost ten grand."</p><p>Jason held onto a thousand bucks and the list I gave him. He gave the rest of the money back to me, and headed for Clarice. I looked at Gran. "I guess I'm not going to be going on a killing spree after all."</p><p>"Was that what you really wanted?"</p><p>I sighed. "Maybe? Gran, they fucked me up so bad. Do they deserve to just go on and live their lives? After they let that happen to me? I was just a little girl."</p><p>"Are you a killer, Sookie? Really?."</p><p>"Well, I've killed. Twice, now. They certainly trained me to be one. I can kill a man in at least a thousand different ways. Doesn't that make me a killer?"</p><p>She didn't answer. "Tell me about Eric."</p><p>Ugh. How in the hell was I going to do this? "He was put in charge of my project after I killed Quinn. He was supposed to have been brought in a few days sooner, but he got detained. He was pissed that I had been set up for failure. That I hadn't been taught how to live like a normal person. I couldn't do the job and fit in. He was really pissed that Quinn almost raped me, and that I got blamed for it. There was talk of selling me to another three letter agency, or even killing me after that. So he took me out of there and I kind of moved in with him. He was going to teach me how to be normal, sort of. Or let me be human, with some structure and guidance. But I was just so grateful to him for getting me out of there, and I think that clouded my judgement about him. I mean, he was involved from the very beginning. He told you and Jason that I was dead, even though he knew it was a lie. And he made me weak."</p><p>"So, you're in love with him."</p><p>Hadn't she listened to a word I said? "He's after me, Gran. His loyalty is to the NSA, not me. Hell, he introduced me to Stan as his asset less than a week ago."</p><p>"Sookie, if they are after you, and they are after him, then maybe your best bet is to tie yourself to him. Maybe he will be able to protect you."</p><p>"Or maybe they're trying to manipulate me into asking for his help so he can capture me."</p><p>She hadn't considered that, but the NSA was sneaky, and vampires were even sneakier. "Well, maybe you're right. What are you going to do?"</p><p>"I guess first thing, I'm going to make a lot of photocopies. I'll go as quick as I can, Gran. I'd like to be out of your hair before dark, but I don't know if that's going to happen. Vampires won't be able to come in, at least, without an invitation. I can keep an ear out for anyone else coming, too. My range is pretty good. We'll keep the TV on, and if there is any news about me being in the South, I'll get the fuck out of here." I winced. "Sorry, Gran."</p><p>She waved off my profanity. Thank fuck.</p><p>It was mid-afternoon when Jason got back. I got set up on the kitchen table and made one copy of each page. Gran stood behind me, cutting my hair best she could while I worked. The vampire blood made my hair incredibly thick, and it was most of the way down my back. I told her to go for it, and she took it all the way down to a short pixie. I felt kind of naked, and a little sad. I knew Eric would hate it, and that made me sadder. Why did he have to affect me like this?</p><p>When I took a break and went to the bathroom, I stared at myself in the mirror for a long time. With my hair so short, my eyes looked huge, and it reminded me of that picture of myself at 8 years old. I felt just like that - hurt and scared and small and powerless. But I wasn't alone. I had my family again. At least for tonight.</p><p>Jason picked us up some chicken baskets from a bar and grill nearby, and I kept on working, letting the dye set and taking up most of the counter space with stacks of paper. Gran felt bad about the fried chicken, but I told her that I would take a raincheck. She smiled sadly at me; we both knew it very likely might not happen.</p><p>After I had the file copied, I set the original aside and sat down with the sharpie. I had some major redactions to make. It was long and tedious, and I made sure to read back through my work twice, to make sure I didn't miss anything.</p><p>Then I made five copies of the redacted file. I put each in a large envelope. I took three out to the car, along with the original and the redacted copy. It was maybe a half hour past sunset. I had just closed the car door behind me when I felt the void coming.</p>
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<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Chronicle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>My stake was still in the cupholder, not four feet away from me. But after last time, getting stuck in a car seemed like a really piss poor fucking idea. I didn't know if I was hoping to see Eric or Isabel. I opened the door and grabbed the stake and closed it again. I got it jammed in my back pocket just in time to see the vampire coming around the corner of the house.</p><p>Shit.</p><p>"You're just like a bad penny, Bill."</p><p>"Sookie. I was sure you would come here to see your kin at the first opportunity. And when I rose in Sweet Home and felt my blood calling to me, I knew that it was meant to be."</p><p>"Sorry, Bill. I would love to stay and listen to you misunderstand fate some more, but I don't have time to chat. I'm just about to head out. I'm going to go and say goodbye to my family, and I'll be on my way."</p><p>"No, Sookie. I'm afraid you're the one who doesn't understand. I did for you. Now it's time for you to do for me. I know you left Eric. That you cast him aside. He isn't coming for you, you know. He went insane in Washington and attacked the Director of the NSA. He is on the run, but they'll find him."</p><p>Oh, shit.</p><p>"I saved your life, Sookie. I treated you well even though you treated me very poorly. You need my blood to survive. I can hide you. I can keep you safe from the NSA. You will be safe and protected and cherished. And, in return, you will be mine in every way. If I say jump, you will say how high, Master. Do you understand?"</p><p>What in the actual fuck was he talking about? The audacity of this smarmy antebellum fuck.</p><p>"Bill, I would rather eat my own feet. Go jump in a fucking lake. I'm not going anywhere with you. I would take my chances with the NSA a million times before I'd spend my life as a submissive to a beta piece of shit like you."</p><p>"Or maybe I could take you to the AVL. The American Vampire League would love to get their hands on a telepath. Especially one who smells so sweet and tastes… what was it again? Like the sweetest nectar Eric Northman has had the pleasure to taste in over a thousand years? I'm sure such a delicacy would be greatly appreciated. Instead of just being a fuck and feed, you could do fuck, feed, and mindread."</p><p>I'm sure I blanched, but I hoped it didn't show in the dim porch light. Isabel had already offered that up as an option for me, at the meeting after I killed Quinn. Yeah, telepathic badass spy was a damn sight better than telepathic blood slave, even if it was against my will. And the US government would sanction this?</p><p>It didn't matter. There was about a 0% chance that I would be going anywhere with Bill, unless he managed to drug me. And that only worked when I was distracted. I wasn't distracted now.</p><p>I could hear that Gran and Jason were both watching through the window and, so far, Gran had kept Jason in check. Intellectually she knew I was much stronger than he was. She'd read my file. I was afraid that my looks would sway her, though. They needed to stay the fuck put. I could beat Bill, but there's no way Jason could. And having to worry about Jason getting hurt could fuck up my plans.</p><p>I sighed, letting my shoulders slump in defeat. "What do you want, Bill?"</p><p>"Before you decided to insult me, I would have requested nothing but your word as a lady, and a kiss. But now, I'll treat you like the foul-mouthed whore that you are. Get on your knees and suck my cock. If you do a decent job, I'll let you keep it. For now. But if you fail to please me, I'll find another job for you to do."</p><p>"You realize my grandmother is watching us, right?"</p><p>He was so pissed, his eyes glowed red. He was right in front of me in an instant and grabbed a handful of my hair to push me to my knees. As short as it was, though, he had a hard time getting a good grip. It was exactly what I had been waiting for. I had the stake out of my pocket and in his chest in less than a heartbeat. One of mine, of course. I jumped back out of the way.</p><p>Bill gushed blood and then started to flake apart as he turned to ash, and I was almost mesmerized by it. I must have stood and watched it for ten minutes, as little time as I had to waste. My dream had been completely accurate, except for which vampire had gotten the stake and where. So, not only could I dream the future, I knew I could change it, too. Pretty much confirmed. Jesus fucking Christ.</p><p>I heard Jason come up behind me. "You really weren't shittin' when you said vampires. I'll be a son of a bitch."</p><p>I caught his eye. "You can't tell anyone about vampires, Jason. Not one word. Not written down or spelled out or even confirming someone's guess. Not until they come out on their own." I felt bad giving him a push, but Pam and… other vampires need to be protected.</p><p>I grabbed a couple of bundles of cash from the car and went back inside. Gran was waiting for me. She said, "You need to go."</p><p>"Yes, I know. I can be in Houston by midnight if I leave right away. I think maybe… I think I might be able to survive this, if I can keep ahead of them tonight. If so, I would like to take you up on that fried chicken real soon. And maybe some pecan pie."</p><p>"Anytime, Sweetheart. It would be my pleasure. What are you going to do about Eric?"</p><p>I stuffed my hands in my pockets and shrugged. That was the million dollar question. I doubted I would ever be able trust him again, but the likelihood of even being given that chance was somewhere between slim and none.</p><p>I gave them each an envelope and a bundle of cash. They were going for a little trip out of town in the morning. Separately. They would have a mini vacation for a couple of days. Order room service. Watch the news. And if they weren't able to contact me on my cell phone on Monday at noon, they were to mail their envelopes and hold tight until the shit hit the fan. In the meantime, they were to stay inside until dawn, and not answer the door. Under any circumstances.</p><p>I hugged and kissed them both goodbye, and I hoped that I would see them both again, and that I would do it as a free woman.</p><p>I got into the Celica and headed back to Texas. Houston was about four and a half hours away. I had the burner cell phone on and activated, and I called and made an appointment to meet with a Mr. Josh Aaron at 12:30 AM. I explained that I was travelling a fair distance, and to wait for me if I was late. I promised to make it worth his while, but didn't give him any more information. He sounded skeptical, but he agreed.</p><p>Then I called Pam's emergency backup phone. I knew it was off the NSA radar.</p><p>"Who in the fuck is this?"</p><p>Yikes. She sounded stressed. "It's Sookie."</p><p>"Where in the fuck are you?"</p><p>"Jesus Christ, Pam, do you think I'm an idiot? I'm somewhere safe. Where in the fuck are you?"</p><p>"Nice try. Is Eric with you?"</p><p>Whoa. Pam was way out of the loop.</p><p>"I left Eric days ago. I don't even know how many at this point. What fucking day is it?" The football game was Monday. We flew home on Tuesday. I lost my shit on Wednesday. I drove all day Thursday...</p><p>"Friday. It's Friday night at just past 9:00."</p><p>So Pam was still in Eastern Time. It was an hour earlier in Louisiana. "I haven't seen Eric since Wednesday afternoon, I guess. He didn't tell you?"</p><p>"No! He must have left just after sunset on Wednesday. I showed up an hour or so later and you were both gone. Your room was in a mess. I haven't been able to reach either of you, or Bobby. Nobody I spoke to had heard from him until he showed up at the Director of the NSA's house near dawn this morning and made a big scene. They're claiming things I know aren't true, though. He would never threaten a child. Wait. Why did you leave?"</p><p>"I ran into my brother at the game. Found out Eric told my family I was dead way back when. I read my file. Your maker was very nearly fucking staked on Wednesday."</p><p>"Fuck me running."</p><p>That about summed it up.</p><p>"What are you going to do?" She sounded worried that I was going to do something rash. Probably a fair assumption.</p><p>"Protect myself."</p><p>"Why did you call?"</p><p>I sighed. "I was worried about you."</p><p>"Just me?"</p><p>I didn't even know how to answer that question.</p><p>You've changed him, Sookie. For the better."</p><p>I still couldn't come up with one fucking thing to say.</p><p>"He's changed you, too."</p><p>"Back off, Pam. You just need to back the fuck off. He's still missing. I don't know where he is. I can't feel him. I'm a great big fucking mess, and I don't need the fucking Eric cheering squad right now. You worry about you and your master, and I'll worry about me. If I see him, I'll tell him you're looking for him. If you see him, tell him I'm safe, and to leave me the fuck alone until I get through this next little bit. And if you want to tell someone that I was nowhere near Stan Davis when he died either fucking time, that would be swell."</p><p>"Good luck, Sookie."</p><p>"You too. Stay safe. Oh, and Pam? Bill's dead."</p><p>There was a long pause. "That's the first good news I've heard in days. Take care of yourself. I'm very fond of you and will be quite angry with you if you get yourself killed."</p><p>"Right back at you, Pam. And take care of him, too."</p><p>I hung up. I had no idea whether I felt better or worse after that, but I felt some kind of way.</p><p>At 10:30, I got pulled over by a cop for speeding. Fortunately, he came to talk to me before running my plates. I convinced him with a little nudge to let me off with a warning, and he did.</p><p>I pulled up in front of the building in downtown Houston and just sat. It was short and squat and kind of ugly, but I hadn't come for its aesthetics. I couldn't believe I had made it. I was a few minutes early. I went through the original file, and pulled some of the photographs and charts and scans. The ones I thought would make the biggest impact. I didn't want them dark and grainy like the photocopies. I made sure that nothing needed redacting. I added them to an envelope containing the redacted file and started paging through again, just to make sure I hadn't missed anything. I knew I was just wasting time. I took a deep, shaky breath and got out of the car.</p><p>The young man met me at the front door. He didn't recognize me at first. I guess the short dark hair was an effective disguise. I saw his eyes widen when he did. I tried to reassure him. "I promise I'm not going to hurt you. I never really wanted to hurt anyone." I gave him a nudge, despite myself. He looked like a skittish horse. Worse, he was incredulous at himself for being afraid of me, a hundred and thirty pound teenage girl. I got that a lot. And it seemed to make a lot of men unpredictable.</p><p>He took me upstairs and we went into an office that looked almost like an old janitor's closet, it was so small and cramped. He sat behind a table and I sat across from him. I handed him the envelope, and he set it aside without opening it. He put a fresh cassette in a tape recorder and pressed the play and record buttons. "This is Josh Aaron interviewing…" he raised his eyebrows.</p><p>I cleared my throat, "Sookie Stackhouse."</p><p>"Sookie Stackhouse for the Houston Chronicle. It is Saturday, October 5, 2002 at 12:36 AM. There is currently a nationwide manhunt for her arrest. Miss Stackhouse, let's start with why you wanted to speak with me tonight."</p><p>I took a deep breath, but he held up one finger and pushed pause.</p><p>"I'm so sorry. I'll be right back."</p><p>I didn't like this one fucking bit. "Mr. Aaron, please sit down." <em>Push</em></p><p>It was like he was stuck in some kind of stasis, unable to sit down or leave. He looked terribly confused. I started to freak out. What the fuck was going on?</p><p>"That was quite impressive, lover. But the poor man's been glamoured to do two opposite things at once. One of us needs to give him a break."</p><p>I had slept maybe eight hours total since Tuesday. I had been so worried about getting to the Chronicle undetected, I forgot to fucking scan once I got there. My phone couldn't have been traced, and nobody knew I was coming. Hell, I didn't even know until that afternoon. I turned around and Eric was leaning against the goddamn door frame behind me. Son of a bitch.</p><p>"Pam is looking for you."</p><p>"I know. What in the fuck did you do to your <em>hair?"</em></p>
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<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Interlude #4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I know. I get earlier every day. It's almost like I'm excited about this, too. :P And I'm more than halfway through Chapter 18 of YnB, so in a day or two, maybe? :P Thanks in advance, ilovemysteries. :P</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Whatever she did to the bond to rouse me from my daytime rest kept me lucid for close to an hour after she left. Not that I could get up and chase her. Finally, I succumbed again to the pull of the sun.</p><p>When I rose for the night, I had a decision to make - chase her and take her back by force, or do the right thing, and hopefully get her to come back to me on her own. Was she my priority, or was the NSA? It wasn't even a question. She was headed South, and I couldn't have been more pleased about that. Had she gone Northeast, to Fort Meade, I would have had to intervene, if I wasn't already too late. If she attacked Building H and survived, I didn't think her psyche would recover. Despite every effort made by the NSA, Sookie was no killer. Yes, she had killed. And I was sure she would again. But it was always as a last resort. And the fact that she had only killed one of her torturers bore that out.</p><p>I had contacts in all of the three letter agencies, but this wasn't something best done over the phone. I wanted to steer clear of the NSA for now, so I decided to start my evening in Quantico, and then head to Langley before going back to Maryland. I needed to know if she was right. This information was not going to be common knowledge, and would be very well guarded. I was going to have to dig for dirt and call in some favours and possibly use a fair bit of glamour and force. Hopefully, being the Team Lead for Project Sartori would be the foot in the door that I needed. If anyone had cause to look into this, it was me.</p><p>I spent Wednesday night and most of Thursday chasing down leads. I even had Bobby making calls and delivering notes during the day. And maybe even a bribe or two. I had little time to lose. When the pieces started to fall into place, I also had him arrange a flight for Friday morning, so I could be in place when I rose that night. If I was right, and very lucky, I might even see her there.</p><p>I kept Sookie's disappearance quiet. I wanted to give her an opportunity to see her family, if she could. I hoped that she wasn't too skittish; she had no idea that she was free from pursuit for the time being. I wished I could let her know, but I knew that, even if I could, she would assume it was a trap. I could hardly blame her.</p><p>When I learned what Isabel Beaumont had been up to, I nearly lost my fucking mind. And since Isabel wasn't available, I paid a visit to the home of the Director of the NSA to express my disappointment and disapproval. I was told that Project Sartori was finished. That I was going to be reassigned, and Sookie would be decommissioned. When I offered myself up as a sponsor to help her through her transition to civilian life, I was informed that they were looking for a much more permanent solution, and I was told to produce her before sunrise.</p><p>Even if it were possible, that was not going to fucking happen, and I made damn sure he knew it, too. With my fists.</p><p>Bobby had greased the wheels for the flight, and the casket was registered as generic freight. My travel was essentially untraceable. It was a good thing, too; the shit had really hit the fan while I was dead for the day, and I was a wanted "man" by the time I rose. There was no news of Sookie's apprehension, and I hoped that she was staying ahead of Isabel Beaumont and the NSA. Bobby flew Business Class (under an alias, of course), and rented a cargo van to transport me to a safe location so I would be ready to go at first dark.</p><p>The Houston Chronicle was the largest newspaper with the greatest circulation in the South. And It was also only four and a half hours from Bon Temps. If Sookie didn't find me first, Bon Temps would be my next stop. But I had a hunch that we would be on the same page.</p><p>Joshua Aaron was one of the journalists who covered National Security for the Chronicle. He was young, idealistic, and driven - exactly what I was looking for. Unfortunately, he was also scared of his own shadow. I provided him with stacks of documents that Bobby had copied and collated for me, and I allowed myself to be interviewed, and the conversation recorded. I did, of course, disguise my voice, and kept my identity off the record. By force of glamour. He knew who I was, and even what I was, but he would be unable to disclose it.</p><p>Shortly after we got started, he needed to pause to take an urgent call. I recognized her voice immediately. She was on her way, and I would see her in just a few hours. I was desperately proud of her for choosing this course. I glamoured him into agreeing to meet with her, rather than getting straight to work on what I had brought him when we were through. This story needed to go in the Sunday paper, and hopefully the delay wouldn't affect his deadline, but the sooner Sookie was safe with me, the better.</p><p>By the time we were through, Mr. Aaron had Pulitzers in his eyes. It should be enough to force the hand of the US government, and to save us both. It was a huge relief.</p><p>I almost didn't recognize her with the short dark hair. She looked so small and lost sitting there in the car that it reminded me of the first time I saw her, sitting on her bed in Building H, holding on tight to that little knife. She looked tired and drawn, and younger than I had ever seen her. But something had changed other than her hair. There was a peace that hadn't been there before. I hoped that she would allow me to protect her, and it had the chance to grow.</p><p>I stayed as far back as I could. I knew I was taking a big risk. I was blocking the bond, but if she sensed a vampire nearby, she was likely to bolt. I would be able to find her, of course, but the last thing I wanted to do was spook her. If she ran, I would have to chase her, and I didn't want her running from me. She needed my protection now more than ever before. If the NSA got to her first, she was dead. She would likely take several agents with her, but that would be cold comfort.</p><p>I glamoured Mr. Aaron to forget all about my story for the time being, and to leave her alone before they even really got started. I had every intention of hiding in a nearby office, but it was like I was drawn to her. It was the longest we had been apart since I'd taken her from Building H, and I missed her desperately.</p><p>Before the reporter could leave, she pulled out some glamour of her own. As her handler, I should have been angry that she had been keeping such a secret from me. I wasn't. At this point, I didn't blame her for doing anything that she felt was keeping her safe. How could I? The NSA already wanted her dead. Had always treated her as a commodity rather than a person. Hadn't cared one iota for her well-being outside of how it affected her usefulness. And had always left that final decision up to a vampire, generally unconcerned with the trivialities of humans, other than how they affected them. I wondered what else she could do that she had kept hidden. I wondered how she had ever trusted me at all.</p><p>She tried to hold up her mask, but I saw the defeat in her eyes when she saw me. But she kept up the banter. We were always good at that.</p><p>I glamoured Mr. Aaron to leave us, and to get started on the story. I sat down across from her.</p><p>"I can't let you do this, Sookie."</p><p>"Sorry, Eric. There are other copies. They're headed to the Times and The Post on Monday if I don't get to do this now. It's out of your hands."</p><p>"If you out us, we will be hunted. Killed."</p><p>That really pissed her off. "You think that little of me, do you?"</p><p>She reached across the table and grabbed the envelope. She threw it down in front of me. I pulled out the file. Every mention of vampires and vampire blood was already redacted. The rest of the information was intact. Every single detail about her. She was laid bare.</p><p>"How did you get here? Pam said you were in DC near dawn."</p><p>"I flew. I knew they were after you by then. They would be after me. I managed to get here under the radar."</p><p>"How the fuck did you know I would be here? I didn't even know I was coming here until hours after that."</p><p>"I didn't. I hoped you would be. You felt guilt after you killed Quinn, despite your history and the fact that he damn near raped you. You couldn't kill me, no matter how much you wanted to. You didn't kill any of your other trainers, despite the years of abuse. You only kill when you have no choice. You aren't a killer, Sookie. I hoped you would go to your family, and then the media. This is the largest newspaper in the south, and it is relatively nearby. I rolled the dice. And I came here with a story to tell, too, and I was afraid the NSA would be watching the big papers in Washington and New York."</p><p>"You say I'm not a killer. I killed Bill just after sunset."</p><p>I laughed out loud at that. "Well, lover, then I'm sure he deserved it."</p><p>"Maybe? I don't know. He offered me protection in exchange for slavery, pretty much. I wasn't really given a choice."</p><p>"You were. And you made the right one. He couldn't have kept you safe from them anyway, Sookie. Isabel knew of his obsession. Even I wouldn't be able to keep you safe from the NSA for long without an ace up my sleeve."</p><p>"And, knowing you, you have about thirteen of them."</p><p>I grinned at her. "More or less."</p><p>She sighed. "And if I need to do this on my own?"</p><p>"If you come forward, you are going to be under the microscope for the rest of your life. You'll be an oddity. You'll be studied endlessly. You'll be hunted."</p><p>"What other choice do I have, Eric? I'm wanted for murder! I'm already under a microscope. I'm already being hunted. I've fucking always been studied. And you gotta admit. I am pretty fucking odd."</p><p>"I have already been interviewed by Mr. Aaron. He has everything he needs to take down Isabel Beaumont and the NSA. Without you having to say anything."</p><p>"How?"</p><p>"You weren't the only one."</p><p>She blinked. "I don't understand."</p><p>"Barry Horowitz is a telepath who works for the FBI. He was recruited as an adult and is very happy in his position.</p><p>"However, I found six others who were taken as children - four by the CIA and two others by the NSA. They were removed from their homes. In some cases, their entire families were killed. Their caregivers, and I use that term only ironically, used the Project Sartori playbook to the letter. None of them survived. The longest lasted only four months."</p><p>She had tears in her eyes. I wondered if she felt bad for them for not surviving, or jealous of them for escaping the torture and neglect so soon.</p><p>"However, Isabel found another telepath. One who could survive the abuse. Another fairy hybrid. Like you."</p><p>The shock was all over her face.</p><p>"Your cousin Hadley had a child before she became the Queen's. His name is Hunter Savoy, and he's two. Isabel found out about Hadley. Discovered the child just after your eighteenth birthday. Hadley wasn't prepared to be a mother and left when he was an infant. And it was easy to get rid of the father. A home invasion. Burglary gone wrong. Officially, Hunter was killed, too. He has been the property of the NSA since early July.</p><p>"They think they know where they went wrong with you. You were too old. Too difficult to control. Already full of bad habits from your short civilian life. They think that if they can steer his life from almost the beginning, he will be docile and easily controlled. They are fools."</p><p>"That's why Dr. Beaumont was so eager to get rid of me. After Quinn. She already had a replacement."</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"But why get rid of me now? He won't be ready for years."</p><p>I grinned at her. "You are a handful, Sookie."</p><p>"Seriously, Eric?"</p><p>"They think you're too dangerous. Uncontrollable. You're too good an actress, lover. They think that all you are is what they see. They don't know that you're a good person inside. They don't even see you as a person at all."</p><p>"And you told the reporter all of this?"</p><p>"Yes. And I provided proof. A lot of it. Your name will be kept out of the papers. So will Hunter's. But your stories will be told. What you went through. The children who were killed. The family members that were murdered. It will all come out."</p><p>"I'm still wanted for murder."</p><p>"Not for long. We have ample proof of your innocence. It's over, Sookie. We just need to lie low until Sunday night."</p><p>She sat and looked at me for a long time. "What if the NSA makes them shut down the story?"</p><p>"Then we tell it again and again and again until it's printed. We mail the documents to a dozen papers. We go on live television if we don't have any other choice. We've won, Sookie. They just don't know it yet."</p><p>"Can we save him? My cousin?"</p><p>"Yes. He will be free. I promise."</p><p>"That's what you said about Tray."</p><p>I sighed. I did deserve that. "I am so sorry about that. I was wrong. But I don't think I am now. They will all be exposed. They will be the ones under the microscope."</p><p>She closed her eyes, and the tears finally started to fall.</p><p>"I have spoken to Sophie-Anne. She is not impressed with the new Sheriff of Area Five. She has offered me my position back - begged me to take it once she learned that Hadley's child is still alive.</p><p>"I love you, Sookie. I want you with me. If you won't be with me now, then I'm prepared to wait and win you back. All the time it takes. I will prove myself to you. You can stay in Bon Temps with your family. I have more than one place in Shreveport. Or I will move closer. It doesn't matter."</p><p>She was still crying. "Eric, I am just so so tired. Please take me somewhere and keep me safe and let me sleep, and we'll talk about everything tomorrow."</p><p>It was more than I could have asked for.</p>
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<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Lying Low</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Really a whole lot earlier every day. :P Middle of the night. Awake for no reason. Post early? Meh. Why not? It's only the fucking penultimate chapter.</p><p>Still a little emotional over here.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>While Eric checked on the reporter, I pulled myself together. Eric glamoured him to forget ever having met me at all. He also made sure to grab the envelope and the cassette out of the tape recorder. Bobby was waiting somewhere with the cargo van, but I didn't feel much like sitting in the back on top of the coffin, so we took the Celica. He got in the driver's seat and looked at the mess of wires hanging out by his knees.</p><p>"You just crimp those two together." I pointed to the loose ones he needed to twist.</p><p>He raised an eyebrow at me. "Another one of Noam's car guy things?"</p><p>I blew out a big breath. "Ok, so <em>technically</em> I might be able to sort of download user manuals for how to do things from people's brains and use them myself."</p><p>He grinned. "For instance, driving like Evel Knievel?"</p><p>"Yeah, well. Lots of stuff, actually - cooking, fighting, repairing shit, lock picking, safe cracking, forgery, surgery. Oh, and blow jobs."</p><p>"Well, that one was a definite success."</p><p>"Yeah, I'm pretty awesome."</p><p>He looked at me, suddenly serious. "No, Sookie. You are nothing short of incredible."</p><p>He crimped the wires together and we were on our way.</p><p>"Eric, we really need to call Pam. She was a fucking wreck when I talked to her earlier."</p><p>"I know. I need to have her come as soon as it's safe."</p><p>He and Bobby had ditched their cell phones before they got to the airport, of course. Since I still had my burner, I called Pam back.</p><p>"Are you safe?"</p><p>"Yeah, Pam. We're both Ok."</p><p>"Oh, thank fuck. He's with you?"</p><p>"I am here."</p><p>Ok, I had to admit the formal routine was kind of adorable. Mr. Stoic. When the going got tough, the tough got serious as fuck.</p><p>Somehow I had just slid right back into whatever this was with Eric. I hadn't committed to anything yet, though. I was a fucking wreck about it. He still had the bond closed, which was kind of weird, and I wondered if it was a defense mechanism because I was so guarded. It made me kind of feel like shit.</p><p>"Pam, when you can get away, and not be followed, come south. I will call you nightly until you get closer." He didn't mean on the phone.</p><p>"Yes, Master."</p><p>I had never heard her call him that unironically before. I guess they were both being formal tonight.</p><p>"Take care of our girl."</p><p>"I will."</p><p>She hung up. And I went ahead and lowered my shields. He was surprised enough to even have to correct his driving. But he looked really pleased, and he opened up the bond. God, I had missed him. Despite myself, but did that even matter? My heart knew what it wanted, and it was basically telling my brain to go fuck itself. We were fucking inevitable, just like I had said way back in the beginning.</p><p>I realized that I hadn't felt angry at him at all since I had left Maryland. It had all drained away when I got all of that shit off my chest and then couldn't stake him. I had been terrified of him finding me, but angry? No. Not even a little bit. I had passed it off as exhaustion-induced apathy or adrenaline or confusion, depending on when, but it wasn't any of those things. He hadn't been the one to take me. And he had rescued me on his first day on the job. I had started forgiving him days ago.</p><p>"Ok."</p><p>"Ok what, Sookie?"</p><p>"Ok, I'll go with you. To Shreveport. I love you, too, I guess. Like a great big fucking idiot."</p><p>He pulled over and was kissing me like crazy in about four seconds. I kissed him back. I was far too exhausted and stressed out and raw to jump in the sack with him tonight, except to sleep, but that vampire could kiss like nobody's business. And frankly, I could use the comfort and endorphins.</p><p>After a few wonderful minutes, I pulled away and said, "We have a lot of work to do, Eric. It's going to take a while before I can really trust you again."</p><p>"I know."</p><p>"You're not mad that I stole your shit?"</p><p>He laughed. "How could I be mad when I was so fucking impressed? You know, if they had any idea about half of what you can do, they never would have decided to end your project."</p><p>"Bullshit, Eric. I fucking did everything they asked me to do. I killed every single mission. I didn't fuck up once. It might not have been orthodox, but I gave them what they asked for and more every single time.</p><p>I've been thinking. I think Isabel hated me so much after Furnan and Quinn that she convinced herself and everyone else that because I'm a little rough around the edges, I was more trouble than I was worth. And then along came a newer and shinier model. And, when you attacked the NSA Director, they decided to just wash their hands of both of us. So that's why I think they threw the old telepath away before the new one was anywhere near ready.</p><p>"And they wanted me to be a soulless killer, Eric. From the very beginning. They made me that way on purpose. Or at least they tried. I <em>can</em> read their minds, you know. They wanted someone who would kill with no remorse. Maybe they decided that it was a terrible idea in hindsight, but it was a feature, not a bug."</p><p>He kissed my forehead and pulled back onto the highway, and I held his hand and rested my head on his shoulder as he drove. Just like old times. Since I was the one with a fake ID and a disguise, I got to check us into a motel. It was unfortunately too late to get back to Louisiana tonight, so we planned to just lie low until Sunday night or early Monday morning, unless we got spooked. No point in taking any unnecessary chances.</p><p>The guy at the reception desk didn't really look at my ID, and he wasn't suspicious of me at all. He did think I was hot, and that made me feel a little better about the hair situation. I kind of wanted to go back in time and kick Eric in the shin back at The Chronicle.</p><p>I paid for three nights, and he gave me my key card. I pushed him to not really be able to remember much of anything about me at all, in case he was asked. I took the suitcases into the room while Eric dumped the Celica a few miles away, after giving it a good wipedown. I worried about him until he got back. He put the do not disturb sign on the doorknob.</p><p>I stripped down to my panties and climbed into bed. Eric could leer all he liked, but I wasn't going to do anything but sleep for a long fucking time. He climbed into bed behind me, and lying in his arms just felt right. And I was sure that I had made the right decision that really hadn't even been a decision at all. I was asleep within seconds, and I didn't wake up until well past sunset.</p><p>Eric was lying on his side propped up on his elbow, watching me. "You need to eat, Sookie."</p><p>"Have you just been lying there waiting for me to open my eyes so you could say that?"</p><p>"Pretty much. Your stomach has been growling for hours."</p><p>Of course the Pearland Motor Lodge wasn't going to have room service. I called and ordered a pizza, and Eric glamoured the delivery guy to think that a single man in his mid-fifties had placed the order. He gave him a good tip, though.</p><p>After I ate, I laid back down next to Eric. I put my chin on his chest and looked up at him. "You're pale. You need to feed."</p><p>"I'll be fine."</p><p>I sighed. "You're really fucking stubborn, do you know that?"</p><p>He grinned at me. "You're one to talk."</p><p>"Well, yeah. I never said I wasn't stubborn, too."</p><p>"You also need blood."</p><p>I knew it. I had been ignoring the cravings for a couple of days. They weren't bad yet, but I was sure they would get that way sooner than later. A mutual exchange just seemed so personal right now, though. I was still feeling awkward with him. Hesitant. But maybe it would bring us closer together.</p><p>"Make love to me, Eric. And I'll make love to you, too."</p><p>I knew how powerful and dangerous he was. But he could be so incredibly gentle. We just kissed for a long time before even moving on to anything else. He stroked my face and my hair, and whispered things that made me feel all mushy inside.</p><p>I knew he was hungry, but he certainly didn't rush. When I had asked him to make love, he had taken me at my word, and he put it into everything he did. I felt cherished and cared for and beautiful. And there was no doubt in my mind that he loved me. At that moment, I had no doubts about him at all.</p><p>He was sitting against the headboard, and I was in his lap, straddling his hips, rocking slowly and kissing him. I pulled back and bent my head to the side, offering my neck to him. I licked his shoulder, sucked hard on it, and then bit. It was a surefire way of turning his crank. He growled and bit my neck, and we were both cumming and cumming and cumming.</p><p>When we were both spent and sated, I wrapped my arms and legs around him even tighter and put my head on his shoulder. I just sat there, all wrapped up in him, clutching him to me, for a long time. I hadn't even realized I'd been crying until he asked me what was wrong.</p><p>"Nothing. I think everything is actually kind of right. I guess I'm just a little emotional. The last few days have been a lot."</p><p>He kissed my neck. "What was it like, seeing your family?"</p><p>"It was like going home."</p><p>He sounded hesitant when he asked, "Are you sure you want to live in Shreveport with me? I will understand, Sookie."</p><p>"Yes. They're the home you go back to visit after you grow up. You're just home."</p><p>He kissed my neck again and just held me until I didn't need to be held any more.</p><p>The next morning, very early, after Eric died for the day in the tub, I ran down to the corner store for a cup of coffee and a paper. The only person who saw me was the kid at the counter, and I gave him a push to forget I'd ever been there.</p><p>The headline was above the fold on the front page.</p><p>
  <strong>Telepathy, Torture, and Murder</strong>
</p><p>NSA, CIA Implicated In Kidnapping, Torture of Child Telepaths</p><p>
  <em>At least 19 are dead, including 8 children, in a Top Secret Joint Operation attempting to turn children into telepathic super spies. Eight children ranging in age from 2-12 who were believed to possess telepathic abilities were taken under false pretenses and subjected to extreme torture, gruesome medical experiments, and even sexual abuse, resulting in the pregnancy and subsequent miscarriage of an eleven year old child. At least six died as a result of injuries stemming from the abuse. In some cases, entire families were slain to prevent detection…</em>
</p><p>I was glued to the news all day. The shit was hitting the fan in Washington, and everyone in the intelligence community was pointing fingers at everyone else. It was so strange listening to people talking about me and my experiences, and I was so very glad that I was, for now at least, anonymous. Because of Eric.</p><p>After sunset, Eric joined me on the bed and we watched it together.</p><p>"What happens now?"</p><p>"Now, I contact the Director of the NSA and demand your official and immediate release, as well as Hunter Savoy's. And for all charges against us to be dropped. If he refuses, then I guess we must go public."</p><p>"Do you think we'll have to?"</p><p>"No. He would have to be a fool. You would make a very compelling victim, lover, although I know how much you would resent it. They absolutely do not want you out there, looking like you do, telling your story to anyone who will listen. It will be bad enough for them as it is."</p><p>"What's going to happen to Hunter?"</p><p>"That's up to you, Sookie."</p><p>What the fuck? "Eric, are you nuts? I can't take care of a child. I can't even take care of myself. Half the time I forget to eat."</p><p>"His father is dead. His mother's lifestyle is absolutely not conducive to raising a child. I understand his grandmother is very ill. Your grandmother is very old. There is no family on his father's side. He will wind up in foster care, Sookie. And he's a telepath who has been through hell, just like you. Who will likely have the same aversion to touch. Do you think he'll thrive in that environment? Would you have?"</p><p>"I don't know anything about raising a kid, Eric. I wasn't even raised myself."</p><p>"We can hire all the help we need. Your grandmother will be nearby. Hell, we can buy a home in Bon Temps, for all I care. I think it's something we need to seriously consider."</p><p>"We can talk to Gran and Aunt Linda. Maybe try to figure something out. I haven't even talked to a kid since I was in elementary school. I can't make any decisions right now."</p><p>"I think that's fair."</p><p>Eric flew off to get another burner phone and call the NSA Director. I laid on the bed and thought about how much had changed in my life. My story was out in the world. I had my whole life ahead of me. I had some of my old family back, and I had a new family, with Eric and Pam. And maybe even Hunter. Not only could I have a life, I could have as normal a one as a telepathic super something with a sexy thousand year old vampire boyfriend could.</p><p>When Eric came back, I was free.</p>
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<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Beginnings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Welp, I guess this is it. Thanks to everyone who read, bookmarked, subscribed, kudoed, and commented. I appreciate the hell out of it, and hope you enjoyed the ride. I already miss AM Sookie. I might bring her out to play again sometime. :P</p><p>I'll be posting chapter 1 of Sunshine Eternal probably tomorrow. Hope to see you there. :P Thank you, as always, to ilovemysteries for being a great beta.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gran's house was all decked out for Christmas, and it was full of people. Well, people and people-shaped beings. Gran's house was all decked out for Christmas, and it was full of bipeds. Gran and Aunt Linda and Hadley were in the kitchen finishing up Christmas dinner. They had shooed me out. Jason was under the Christmas tree playing with Hunter's toys. And Hunter, too, I guess. Eric and Sophie-Anne and Andre were sitting together whispering so fast nobody else could understand a thing they said. I could, but I just wasn't listening. I was done with spycraft and intrigue. Plus Andre creeped me the fuck out. But he was there to protect Sophie-Anne, and Sophie-Anne was Hadley's honey, so there we were.</p><p>I was just sitting there enjoying the hell out of myself. After years of it just being Gran, Jason, Aunt Linda, and Uncle Bartlett, Gran had gone all out. She had lost one family member (good fucking riddance, Great-Uncle Pervert), but gained two grandchildren, a great-grandchild, and a couple of vampires-in-law. Plus her favourite - Pam. She was over the moon with excitement, and it was contagious.</p><p>This was basically my first Christmas in a decade, and I was feeling warm and fuzzy and mushy and festive as hell. And, if Eric hadn't been sitting on the couch next to one of the kids from Village of the Damned, I would probably be snuggled up on his lap.</p><p>Hunter came over and climbed onto my lap to snuggle instead. Despite my initial reluctance, Hunter was kind of mine now. Actually, there was no kind of about it. He had the same problems with touch that I had, and although he was opening up to his grandmother, great-grandmother, and cousin Jason a little, they wouldn't really be able to care for him. But I could shield like nobody's business when I needed to, and he could only really read the things I pushed at him, anyway. And, of course, Eric was silent all the time.</p><p>But the real connection was our shared experiences at the hands of the government. He had only been with them for a short time, comparatively, and they had eased off on the worst of the abuse, thank goodness - because apparently they were convinced that I was a huge, regretful mistake, not because it was the wrong fucking thing to do. Still, he was very young and very traumatized and he had regressed and stopped speaking completely for a while. But he was able to communicate with me easily without having to talk at all. And sharing our experiences (heavily edited, in my case) back and forth had really gone a long way toward helping him work through it and heal. And, really, me too. He had opened up a huge amount in the few weeks he'd been with us. He was talking again, and he'd even started offering no-bare-skin hugs to the plain old humans. He already loved Eric, too, but when something was wrong, or he wanted something, or he needed affection, he came to me. He was mine.</p><p>He didn't really know his mother much at all, and she was really uncomfortable around him. But she was very glad that he was free and safe and alive, and very thankful that Eric and I were taking care of him. And she was glad to have her family back again, too, even if it was at arm's length.</p><p>We had managed to wean Hunter off the vampire blood. It had actually helped with shielding until he had mastered the art, and now he was able to hold them up strong on his own, even with the amount of blood in his system waning away. In another month or two, he'd be clear of it completely.</p><p>That wasn't an option for me, of course. Me and V were in it for the long haul. I didn't mind; honestly, I would miss our blood exchanges very much if we had to stop. It was incredibly intimate, it strengthened the bond, it made me feel closer to him, and it was so. fucking. hot. Nothing felt as good as cumming while exchanging blood. If I was accidentally turned at some point, then oh well. I didn't think I'd ever choose it just because, but I had already agreed to being turned in an emergency (after being sat down and given an intervention by Eric and Pam), and an accident was kind of the same thing. Sort of. I mean, I would likely die without it, and we were kind of rolling the dice no matter how we did it or how much or little I drank. It was all guesswork. There wasn't a vampire blood user manual for shit like this. I was the test case.</p><p>The NSA had no idea what my natural life expectancy was - anywhere from 35-350 years was their best guess. My health was still being monitored and tracked by the government, but there were strict guards in place to keep me safe and free. Plus I reinforced it with a few good pushes at everyone on my medical team. They were the only ones who had any experience with my case, so, unfortunately, they were my best option.</p><p>The US Intelligence Community was still going through some shit. There were umpteen Congressional investigations and a special counsel in place. There had been a whole slew of resignations and firings up and down the chain of command. The public was absolutely outraged, and the more of that there was, the safer Hunter and I would be. I would be testifying to Congress anonymously in the new year, and had already spoken with the special counsel's team under seal. Everyone was very interested in keeping our identities secret, so I was happy to tell my story. The more accountability they could mete out, the better. But I could not bear the thought of being pitied by sight and name all around the world. The grand jury would be convened soon, and hopefully the criminal charges would start. I hated that Isabel Beaumont was still free, even if she was a pariah. That wasn't enough for me.</p><p>Hunter and I snuggled and rocked, and I noticed Eric smiling at me. I smiled back. We were doing really well. Most of our biggest fights had been over work shit, and we didn't have that to deal with any longer. He still drove me up a tree now and again, but making up was always fun. And it's not like I was a piece of cake to deal with myself, by any stretch of the imagination. My emotional shields had been down full time since Thanksgiving, and I found that the bond helped us understand each other a little better. Where we were coming from. It had stopped a lot of misunderstandings before they had even started.</p><p>I still couldn't keep my hands off of him. And why would I want to? Eric is an Adonis, for Christ's sake. Or, hell, maybe Apollo (ironic or not). With a much bigger dick. He could certainly fuck like a god. But don't tell him I said that. The man's ego is big enough already.</p><p>Hunter sent me a picture of Pam.</p><p>"Yeah, Buddy. She's late, huh? She'll be here soon, though."</p><p>Pam had been visiting Minnesota, and a storm had delayed her flight. She was supposed to have arrived on Christmas Eve. It had finally taken off, and should have landed in Shreveport about an hour ago. She was due at Gran's any minute. She and Hunter adored each other, and he had been missing her all week.</p><p>Gran called everyone to supper, so the humans (well, the hybrids) went to the kitchen. The vampires kept on conspiring, or whatever they were doing.</p><p>After we all got settled and Gran said grace, everyone started passing everything around. There was a void outside headed for the door, and Hunter scrambled down from his booster seat and ran outside to greet Pam.</p><p>I was just pouring the gravy on my mashed potatoes when I heard Hunter screaming for me in my head. I ran for the door.</p><p>Isabel Beaumont was standing in the dooryard, and she had hold of Hunter. He was struggling and wiggling, but, of course, he was no match for a vampire. Even a mostly one-armed one.</p><p>"Put him the fuck down, Ma'am." I had never said it with more sarcasm or vitriol.</p><p>"Him for you, Sookie. Make Eric agree. I'll let him go unharmed when you're dead."</p><p>She had her only elbow around his neck, and his body was shielding her heart and throat. He would be dead before any of us could get to her.</p><p>Eric was behind me, and his anger was nearly knocking me over, but there was nothing he could do.</p><p>But maybe I could. I caught her eyes and I pushed as hard as I fucking could. "Let him go!"</p><p>She looked startled. She hesitated. And then she set him down. He ran to me as fast as he could, and I scooped him up and tried to calm him down. He was absolutely terrified of her, and we would be back to nightmares about her every night for the foreseeable future, I was sure. I certainly understood - she had been my boogeyman, too. He was trembling and pale, and I hoped that Eric wouldn't have to give him some blood for shock.</p><p>As soon as she realized what I had done, before Hunter was barely out of her reach, she hissed, "Now you're both going to die."</p><p>But before anyone could move, she just seemed to almost explode in a glut of blood. Hadley was standing behind her with a piece of jagged kindling from the woodpile in her hand. She looked scary as hell when she said, "Leave our baby alone, you fucking psycho bitch."</p><p>Gran was a little bit horrified, and Eric was going to have a nightmare load of paperwork to deal with, both as a former NSA agent and as the vampire Sheriff, but Hadley was toasted and hailed and celebrated all night long. I pulled her aside after pie.</p><p>"Thanks, Had. You've kind of saved my life twice now. If you hadn't told Bill all of that shit about me, I probably would have been killed by Dr. Beaumont back in Dallas." She gave me a hug, and I felt just how thankful she was that I was home, and that Hunter had someone like me to take care of him. He was far more important to her than I had realized. We were even, at least in her eyes.</p><p>I really wasn't sure if anyone but Eric and Isabel realized what I had done. It had all happened so fast. I sure hoped not. I didn't really know what the Queen would think about that. Vampire mind control? Pretty big fucking deal.</p><p>Later that night, after Pam finally arrived from Minnesota, and Hadley and Sophie-Anne and Andre left for New Orleans, and Jason took Aunt Linda home, Hunter, Eric, and I went back to our new house in Bon Temps. After I got Hunter tucked into bed, I found Eric sitting on the floor beside the Christmas tree. I straddled his lap and gave him a kiss.</p><p>"Hi."</p><p>He smiled. "Hi."</p><p>"What are we doing under the tree?"</p><p>"I have another present for you."</p><p>He had already been incredibly generous, and I had no idea what it could be. He gestured at me to pick it up, and there was only one way to find out. I tore off the paper.</p><p>"Oh, sweet! Seems awfully fancy for cutting people up, though."</p><p>"It's a ceremonial knife, Sookie. It's used in traditional vampire ceremonies."</p><p>I narrowed my eyes at him. "Like what?"</p><p>He pulled a ring box out from under the tree skirt. Holy fucking shit.</p><p>"Vampires will be out in the open in 2 or 3 years. After that, it won't be legal for us to get married for quite some time, I'm sure. If we do it ahead of time, it will be legal, and we will be able to adopt Hunter together."</p><p>I blinked at him.</p><p>"Sookie, will you marry me?"</p><p>Was he nuts?</p><p>"Um, fuck yes?"</p><p>And, warm and breathing, I fucking dropped fang.</p>
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